


CAMENA

by nightrunning



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, Happy Holidays Everyone!, Kinda, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-02-15 16:43:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13035261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightrunning/pseuds/nightrunning
Summary: AU set in Insomnia; Ignis is an underappreciated and overworked concert pianist, and Gladio's a roadie with more bad luck than he deserves. During a tour of the Crown City, Gladio tries to share some warm feelings with Ignis, who has a hard time believing that someone like him could inspire them.A slow burning, pining, fluff fic for the holidays... 'cause we all need it after Episode Ignis.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcom.......
> 
> SO i played episode ignis and was very inspired to write something (and CRY) and the plan was, originally, to write a longer canon piece following the events from a gladnis-y POV, and do a small oneshot holiday piece.......... but now the plan is actually reversed! i'm gonna be doing a smaller canon piece too , but this HOT MESS will be the longer of the two
> 
> ANYWAY thank you & enjoy!

The piece could’ve been original or some hundred year old classic, the backbone of every pianists practise - it didn’t matter when Ignis was playing it, and it didn’t matter to Gladio. Ignis set his fingers to the keys and the world receded around him. Gladio wouldn’t have looked away even if the stage had been crowded with a dozen other musicians.

 

As it was, the Crown City Arena was mostly empty. Gladio and a handful of other roadies and techs sat in the fold-up seats whilst the Royal Orchestral Company prepared for the coming night’s performance. A group of three violinists sat with their instruments in the laps, talking amongst themselves, and the guitarists shared an electric tuner at the back of the stage. Ignis was the only one playing, a lilting melody to soften the silence.

 

Gladio sat isolated from the others in the dwindled crowd, leaning forward, arms folded over the top of the chair in front so he could rest his chin there more comfortably. If Ignis were to look down…  _ God _ , Gladio frowned, it’d be real obvious that he was staring. Fortunately, Ignis was very much in his own world, dancing his fingers across the piano, politely, figuring out the intricacies of the sound.

 

There were really other things he should be doing, but none of them held the same appeal as sitting here, in the dark, on a seat not made for guys with his kind of leg-span, and watching his crush play piano for nobody. Gladio had been driving with the Company since the start of the Insomnian tour, what, a couple weeks ago, now? It felt way longer.

 

He’d seen Ignis that first day in the first venue and knew he’d got it bad - every day it got  _ badder _ . Gladio came to each performance and hung around with the guys afterwards backstage, thinking  _ I’ll talk to him tonight, tell him he kicked ass. _

 

So far, no dice.

 

Gladio rubbed at his jawline, thinking that he ought to stop at the gym now they were back in the City. It’d been a long tour around the outer kingdom, so he probably needed to pick up some groceries, too, maybe call Iris, see if she wanted-.

 

His thoughts veered off too far to catch when Ignis stopped playing. Gladio held his breath, watching Ignis adjust his weight on the little stool and frown down at the keys. He ghosted his hands across the tops of them without pressing, and somehow the silence drew the others to him. The violinists came, then the guitars, and in a huddle they carried on a conversation.

 

Ignis started the music again.

 

‘-gonna be full tonight with the holidays coming up,’ said one guy, holding a violin by its tapered neck.

 

Another guy tapped the top of the piano, and Ignis frowned at the offending hand like a cat watching a mouse. Gladio hid a smile in the crook of his arm, charmed and hopeless. Ignis had the prettiest face even when he was simmering, with sharp eyes - kinda green, kinda blue - and a lanky, lean sorta body;  _ svelte _ .

 

‘Don’t remind me, I’ve barely bought anyone anything yet,’

 

‘You know it’s less than a month away, right?’

 

‘I said don’t remind me.’

 

Too close to eavesdropping for comfort, Gladio glanced away from the stage across the rows of empty seats. The other roadies and tech guys were grouped up on their phones across the aisle.  _ Probably wondering what the hell I’m doin’, or what I’m waiting for. _ Gladio frowned; it was a fair (hypothetical) question.

 

‘Man, I’m just hoping I can put a deposit down on a car before the year’s out,’ said one of the guitar players, untwisting the strap around his shoulder. His fellow nodded.

 

‘Holiday for me,’ she said.

 

‘Oh, yeah? Where?’

 

She shrugged. ‘Duscae, maybe. Do some camping,’

 

‘Nice - swap the snow for dirt,’

 

‘There’s nothing wrong with the outdoors,’

 

Silently, Gladio agreed.

 

‘What about you, Iggy?’

 

Gladio lifted his head a little. It wasn’t often that he got to hear Ignis talk - they’d never had a conversation beyond a “ _ hi” _ in the hotel lobby, after all, and Ignis didn’t hang around long after shows. He carried on with his tune and mulled over the question, then shook his head dismissively.

 

‘There’s nothing I need. A new wallet, maybe,’

 

The others started laughing like he’d cracked a joke… but Gladio didn’t think he had, somehow. Ignis glanced at the group with a perfunctory smile, and the conversation went wheeling on by him (“You wanna go to Altissia. There’s some real night sights to see there,” “I can’t swim,” “Dude, there’s boats,”). Ignis lowered his eyes and walled himself off with his music.

 

Gladio sighed, letting his mind wander.  _ I could get him a wallet, _ he reasoned,  _ they’re not that hard to find, and hey, maybe I could get him a real nice leather one. _ He chewed on the side of his thumb, picturing a backdrop of tinsel and snow, and tree lights reflected in Ignis’ eyes as he looked up to him, smiling, accepting the gift and saying his name…

 

But the hell would he explain how he knew to get him something so specific?

 

_ I could say one of these guys told me... _

 

Gladio was stunned stupid by the light of his phone, then. He blinked, a horrible half-second passed, and then his ringtone was screeching out across the arena, echoing in all the empty nooks, shattering Ignis’ gentle song. Gladio swore. He sat back and fumbled with the phone, accepting the call before even looking at whose name had been on the screen, anything to shut it up. His heart hammered; he felt it in his fingertips as he lifted the phone to his ear.

 

‘Hello?’ asked the voice on the other end.

 

Gladio was gawping at the stage. Everyone on it was looking at him. Ignis was looking at him.

 

It wasn’t the meet-cute moment he’d been hoping for. Their eyes met, sure, but not across a crowded room or whatever - this was a nightmare. There was no piqued intrigue on Ignis’ face, only a slight frown that said so clearly  _ what the hell? _

 

Gladio let out a pained sigh.

 

He stood in a hurry with no other thought but to  _ bolt _ . He shuffled sideways through the row of seats, pulling his bag onto his shoulder as he went, swearing under his breath.

 

‘Gladiooo,’ carolled the voice again. ‘you there?’

 

‘Prompto,’ Gladio whispered, sounding more stringent than he’d meant to. His hands shook a little, and there was a compulsion in him to look back and see if everyone was still gawping… but he fought it, making for the doors under the stalls. ‘what the hell is it?’

 

Prompto made a confused little sound. ‘You okay, big guy?’

 

How to even explain… Gladio winced; the image was there when he closed his eyes, faces all staring…

 

‘Just having a hell of an afternoon, sorry,’ he said, and barrelled through the foyer doors and into the light with a sigh of relief. He went a dozen paces before coming to a standstill, breathing hard and hobbled, waiting for his head to stop spinning. ‘I’m here, what’s up?’

 

‘You sure everything’s alright?’ Prompto asked, and Gladio grudgingly let his irritation go slack; the kid was too nice to berate for something that wasn’t his fault.

 

‘Prompto, I… yeah, what is it?’

 

‘Uh, can I get a ride into town?’

 

Something normal. Something he could handle - a distraction, even. Gladio rubbed under his eyes. ‘Sure. Got a date?’

 

‘No!’ Prompto squawked. ‘I’m meeting a... friend in town, but it’s way too far for me to walk and the busses don’t  stop near my apartm-’

 

‘Alright, I get it!’ Gladio frowned. He looked idly at the posters tacked to the walls, their colours swam together at the corners of his vision, pulsing slightly. He set a hand over his chest where his heart was still freaking the hell out -  _ probably don’t need to go to the gym today, at least _ , he thought with a grim  _ huff _ . ‘You want a ride now?’

 

‘Please! We’ll talk about what’s eating you on the drive,’ Prompto said - and he wasn’t teasing, at least not completely. ‘I can tell something’s up.’

 

Gladio was halfway to a scoff and a  _ no _ when he thought better of it. Iris was the only one who  _ knew _ , and though she did try to help in her own way, it mostly consisted of bugging Gladio for details of  _ developments  _ when he came home. Prompto had to understand better, right? He might even have advice…

 

_ Wait… what the hell am I thinking? _

 

Gladio pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘We’ll see,’ he mumbled, torn in two. ‘I’m on my way.’


	2. Chapter 2

There was a Christmas song on in the diner, but the radio was so old and busted that it was impossible to say which one. Gladio wasn’t listening. It was hard enough to focus - he’d been reliving his fuck up at the arena over and over since it happened, and the gut twisting embarrassment hadn’t lessened any. He sat with his head buried in his arms on the table, brooding. The place was bright and decked out with holly wreaths, tinsel, and baubles hanging from wherever there was a place to hang ‘em. Couples came in for coffee  _ to go _ in shitty festive jumpers, and, to top it all off, Iris was tapping the back of his head with a spoon.

 

‘You’re a moron.’ she said.

 

Gladio grunted. No argument there.

 

‘Like, for real, you’re the only person I know who doesn’t have their phone on vibrate all the time,’

 

‘I gotta have my phone handy for work calls, y’think about that?’ Gladio grumbled, winning himself a dense  _ smack _ with the spoon for his trouble. ‘Holy sh-, quit that!’

 

‘Your phone still lights up on vibrate, dummy,’

 

Gladio lifted his head to shoot her a glower, but, like always, she was unphased. They were sat opposite sides of table in one of the cosier booths, and Iris had bundled up for the winter, all in black. Her coat had a fluffy collar and cuffs, her scarf was almost as tall as she was, but the cold weather suited her - she was a bright spot in an otherwise dour diner and an otherwise dour day. People sat quietly on phones or looking out the windows; Insomnia was all grey and white, with no sun to break through the blanketed sky.

 

Iris set down the spoon and adjusted it perpendicular to her on the table.

 

‘So,’ she said, suddenly serious. Gladio quirked a brow. ‘You’re gonna get him the wallet, right?’

 

_ Ugh. _ Gladio groaned. He’d spilled everything to Iris the night he’d come back from hanging with Prompto, and after a merciless  _ ribbing _ she finally agreed to help… whatever that meant. ‘Yeah, but I dunno how I’d give it to him.’

 

‘Christmas present? Oh, come on, it’s the perfect setup!’ Iris grinned. Gladio felt a stirring of hope despite the rampant humiliation, and the two forces pushed and pulled him from the inside, leaving him dizzy and a little… thrilled, really. He shuddered and knew he had to squash it, swiping the hat from his head and smoothing out his hair.

 

‘What, like an icebreaker?’

 

‘No! Think of it more like…’ Iris paused, then spread her hands out from her face. ‘ _ Courting _ . I know a really cute store that sells-’

 

Gladio pointed at her across the table.

 

‘He’s not into your nerd shit,’ he warned, and bit back a smile when Iris pouted and swatted at his finger.

 

‘How’d you know?!’

 

‘You ain’t seen him. He’s classy,’

 

‘Oh, classy, you say?’ Iris tilted her head, a fresh grin blooming. Gladio rolled his eyes; it wasn’t as though Ignis was a goddamn concert pianist in the King’s Company or anything, no. Iris was already scheming, he could practically see all the little cogs and gears whirring, giving off smoke. ‘Okay, so, tell me what he looks like again,’

 

‘Why?’

 

‘Just tell me!’

 

Gladio sighed and folded his arms across his chest. The two baristas on duty were talking closely, sharing a washcloth and coy glances. Gladio’s heart thumped and he glanced away quickly.

 

‘He’s… handsome, and, uh, tall,’

 

Iris waited for more. Gladio shrugged at her. She gaped. ‘Gladio, come on. And?!’

 

_ And what?!  _ He dragged a hand down his face. There were swathes of passages from old books he’d read that sprang to mind, detailing the butterflies a man felt in his stomach when he danced with his  _ dear heart _ , or whatever, and all the new books he picked up already seemed to have Ignis’ name written into them, every touch, the shy first kisses shared between new lovers...

 

Iris hung on for more detail, but specificity wasn’t the problem. Gladio recalled perfectly the cut of Ignis’ cheekbones, his posture at the piano, and that cupid’s bow of his…

 

‘You’re blushing so hard,’ Iris shook her head, smiling wistfully. ‘I really wanna see! Don’t you have a picture or something?’

 

Gladio shook his head. There wasn’t even one in the programme for the tour - something he’d found out in a hotel room one night after spending ten minutes psyching himself up to look for one. ‘I wouldn’t-  _ fuck _ ,’

 

‘What?’

 

‘He’s here,’

 

In a black coat as sensible as everything else Gladio had ever seen him wear - there was no mistaking him. There was snow on his shoulders and in his hair, and Ignis dusted it away with deft and gloved hands.

 

Iris’ concern faded, replaced in a flash by a horrible impish excitement that never meant anything good. She swivelled round in the booth in what had to be the least subtle way a human had ever moved, ever, and Gladio felt his stomach lurch.

 

‘Would you cut that out!’ he hissed, sinking lower in his seat, wondering if it might not be better to make a break for it again and take his chances on Ignis being too preoccupied with his drink order to notice. He’d come through the door with a breath of cold air, and was now looking at the chalkboard menu, blissfully unaware of the siblings peering at him.

 

‘Oh,’ Iris whispered, drawing the sound out. ‘I see what you mean about his everything,’

 

Gladio mumbled  _ yeah, well _ , and made to reach across the table and stop Iris from gawping like a little gremlin, but once again, his bad luck had other plans for him. Gladio knocked the spoon onto the floor with a clatter.

 

The déjà vu was immediate and awful. Ignis saw, he  _ looked _ , and Gladio didn’t dare to breathe, unable to look away, not for fear or infatuation.

 

Ignis waved. 

 

Gladio lifted a hand in reply.

 

_ Holy. Shit. _

 

Iris mumbled something that got lost under the sound of the shitty radio, and slumped back onto her seat. Gladio’s insides burned up, imagination included, and though it’d  _ so _ be easy to misread this, Gladio reeled himself in. Ignis was the soul of decorum - this was him being polite to someone he recognised, nothing more, nothing  _ flirty _ .  _ But, fuck, still _ … Gladio exhaled, awestruck, when Ignis turned to reconsider the menu.

 

Their empty mugs (and Gladio, too) jumped and clattered when Iris slapped her hands down on the table.

 

‘I’m gonna go talk to him,’ she declared.

 

Gladio gaped.

 

‘You-  _ no _ ,’ he started, but Iris was already scooting out of the booth. ‘do  _ not _ talk to him! Iris!’

 

She gave him a wink and whirled away out of his reach, dancing over to the counter with light steps and a mission. Gladio watched her go, his arm outstretched across the table, thinking to himself that now was the best time to make good on his plan to  _ fuckin’ run _ ... 

 

*                     *                     *

 

It took Ignis a moment to realise the girl was staring at him, not the menu. He looked to her with a slight shift of self-consciousness, recognising her from Gladiolus’ table. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, but now that he looked between the two he guessed at a familial relation. The eyes were the same, the hair, too. She smiled. Ignis returned it despite his confusion.

 

‘You know my brother?’

 

Know him? Not really. Ignis shook his head. ‘We work together,’ he said, and the girl nodded. He thought about offering to buy her something, but decided against it when he glanced at Gladio and found him watching closely, elbows propped up on the table, supporting his head and covering his mouth.

 

‘Yeah! Do you guys speak a lot?’ she pressed, then held out a hand. ‘I’m Iris, by the way.’

 

‘Hello, Iris,’ Ignis said, taking her hand; she had a surprisingly strong shake. ‘and oh, no, not especially.’

 

Iris frowned, shooting a look over her shoulder that made Gladio wither, shrinking down as much as a man of his size could. Ignis watched, too, until Iris spoke again.

 

‘That’s a shame,’

 

‘Is there an issue?’ Ignis raised a brow. He couldn’t help but remember the mishap in the arena last week during practise - was this related to that phone call he’d rushed to take?  _ A family matter, maybe, but something important, clearly. _ Ignis didn’t know what  _ he _ had to do with it, though.

 

‘Oh, no!’ Iris chimed. She looked him over without a care to mask the appraising look in her eye. Ignis shifted uncomfortably, not particularly enjoying being put to a test he hadn’t agreed to. ‘What do you usually do after a show, by the way? Rager backstage?’

 

_ She’s joking, surely. _ It was hard to tell. Iris’ eyes were as big and bright as pennies - she had all the curiosity of youth, but Ignis couldn’t fathom her questions. He shook his head.

 

‘Not exactly,’

 

‘Okay, cool. Well-’ Iris pulled out a slip of pink moogle-printed paper from her pocket, then a pen and a phone, and began copying down a number from her contacts list. Once she was done, she held the paper out to Ignis in the same commandeering way she’d offered her hand. Ignis took it, carefully, waiting for the explanation. ‘It’s his.’

 

Iris tapped the paper with her pen then pointed behind her. Gladio seemed to realise he was being looked at and gave a start; he picked up a menu, put it back, looked over again then picked the menu back up.

 

Ignis didn’t know what to make of that. Of any of this.

 

‘Ah, thank you,’

 

‘You got it.’ Iris winked. She stowed away her phone and pen and headed back to the booth before Ignis could ask a single question,  _ why _ being the most pressing. She sat back opposite her brother, who regarded her with narrowed eyes, trained on her, mumbling something lost in the distance. It made Iris laugh, whatever it was.

 

The family ties were plain to see, now, but Gladio still remained a mystery. At work he was one of the more capable (read: bossy) road crew, known for his humour. He really was quite handsome, too… Nothing clued Ignis in to why he might ask his sister to pass along his number -  _ but people give their details out to others they’re interested in, don’t they? _

 

Ignis exhaled, shortly. It was a bold assumption from out of the blue; Gladiolus had rolled the menu into a makeshift megaphone pointed at his cackling sister, and though she was laughing, he had a furrowed brow and a frown. Not the face of a man who was happy with what had just happened.

 

A horrible thought lanced through him, ripe with nostalgia from the cruelest memories of high school.  _ It is possible that this has all been a joke… _

 

Ignis hummed and stashed the paper away, quickly. He had more than enough distractions to contend with as it was.

 

‘What can I get you?’

 

The barista was smiling. Ignis felt strangely distant from the diner, all its decorations and merry customers.

 

‘Ah, just a coffee, please. Black,- he said, biting his lower lip. ‘and to go, thank you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TY again for reading! <3 my other canon fic will be up (in three parts) as soon as i can wrangle it into shape


	3. Chapter 3

Trust Prompto to find something to do in a parking lot. The buses were tucked away behind the Crown City Arena and would be for another week or so until the tour moved on, so there was really no reason for folks to come poking their noses around. It usually made for a quiet place to eat, but today Gladio had picked up Prompto in the sandwich shop after spotting him staring, bewildered, at the counter. Gladio sat on the steps of his bus whilst Prompto composed a weirdo selfie with the determination of a professional portrait artist; he had on a high-vis (that really shouldn’t have been lying around, actually) and a grin so genuine that Gladio didn’t have the heart to poke fun at him.

 

But… old habits.

 

‘What’s got you in such a good mood?’ he called out, pointing with an accusatory crust. Prompto held his smile and took the shot, then fiddled with his phone for a sec. Gladio kept pointing, narrowing his eyes when Prompto eventually turned to him.

 

‘Geez, why are  _ you _ in such a bad one?’

 

‘Iris didn’t tell you?’

 

Prompto’s eyes widened and Gladio realised his mistake like a brick wall to the face. In a flurry of untied laces Prompto came and perched on the step down from Gladio’s.

 

‘Watch the food!’ Gladio clucked, rescuing the other half of his sandwich before Prompto could sit on it.

 

‘No, come on! What is it? Iris hasn’t said anything,’ he pressed, and Gladio groaned - there was no way outta this corner he’d backed himself into, now. Prompto was bound to ask Iris now regardless of whether he spilled, so he figured he might as well take the chance to put things in his own words before Iris hammed it up. Wondering where to even begin, Gladio took another bite and met Prompto’s impatient stare when he tugged on the leg of his trousers.

 

‘So, okay, you remember the thing I told you about last time?’

 

‘Oh! Yeah, with the, uh,’ Prompto mimed playing a piano. ‘Him?’

 

‘Yeah,  _ the him _ ,’ Gladio frowned. ‘his name is Ignis, c’mon,’

 

‘I know! Carry on,’

 

‘Iris gave him my number,’

 

Prompto grinned, all surprised-like, and Gladio felt a stab of embarrassment when he considered it through his eyes; it must sound...  _ ridiculous _ . Gladio looked away with a huff as the weight in his chest compounded, as though he’d squeezed into an elevator with one too many people.

 

‘It wasn’t like it was my idea, though,’

 

‘Suuure,’ Prompto teased. ‘bet you’ve never thought about giving it to him,’

 

Gladio decidedly tried  _ not _ to think of “giving it to Ignis” and took another bite. ‘Thinking and  _ doing _ is different,’

 

‘Has he called?’

 

Gladio scoffed. ‘What do you th-’ he started, but lost his train of thought horribly when he spied a little pink mark peeping out from under Prompto’s scarf. ‘Is that a hickey?’

 

Prompto reddened and clapped his hand over the mark as though he were trying to squish a bug. It was too late, though, much too late. Gladio shook his head.  _ Well, that explains why he’s extra smiley today,  _ he thought to himself, and threw out his crust for the pigeons.

 

‘I don’t even wanna know,’ he said.

 

Prompto cleared his throat with a squeak. ‘ _ So _ , uh, anyway,’ he bunched up his shoulders and knocked his feet together, smiling coyly. ‘how many shows are you guys playing here?’

 

‘I ain’t playing anything,’ Gladio said as the pigeons descend to peck at his sandwich. ‘but we got a couple more dates here before we moving downtown for a bunch more. Busy time of year, you know?’

 

‘Will the King come and see any?’

 

‘I dunno. You figure I should call him up and ask?’

 

Prompto tilted his head; his energy was ineffable and, on better days, contagious. He was all red in the cheeks this morning, with a hat and matching gloves, and a slight sniffle. ‘You gotta stop brooding, dude! Ignis is too nice a guy to like, make fun of you for the number thing,’

 

Gladio didn’t exactly know how Prompto knew how nice a guy Ignis was, but he decided to pass on replying; it’d do no good. He clicked his tongue and remembered King Regis from the year before - a speck sat in one of those fancy-ass boxes above the common crowd.

 

‘He came last year, I think, brought his son-’

 

‘Noctis!’

 

‘Yeah, he didn’t look super into it-’ Gladio started, and barely had time to blink before Prompto was on his feet and leaping down the steps.

 

‘I  _ told _ him to bring a coat!’

 

For a second Gladio didn’t see what the hell, or who the hell, Prompto was talking about, but then he noticed the arena’s back door swing open. A kid not much older then Prompto with a mop of black hair came ambling out in a thin-knit jumper, no coat, and recoiled at the cold like he’d been expecting a June afternoon. Prompto called out to him.  _ Noctis! _ Then, it clicked.

 

‘Holy  _ shit _ ,’

 

Gladio gathered the other half of his sandwich and stowed it away in his coat pocket, brushing himself down and loping after Prompto across the lot.

 

Noctis, as in the King’s son, as in the  _ prince _ , turned and saw Prompto, and greeted him with a smile and a little wave of a cold hand. Prompto plucked at his jumper and seemed to be giving him an earful about  _ freezing your butt off _ . Noctis listened with an admonished sort of affection on his face.

 

‘Hey, Gladio - this is Noctis,’ Prompto said, beaming when Gladio came into the picture.

 

‘Hey,’ said Noctis.

 

Gladio didn’t know if he should bow or curtsy or… something. Noctis didn’t seem like he took himself too seriously, though, so Gladio chanced a nod. ‘Hey, good to meet you,’

 

‘Oh, and you two know one another already, right?’

 

Gladio looked from Prompto’s grin to where he’d nodded to. He felt his breath catch, unsure whether to call it good luck or bad.

 

Ignis blinked at him, politely puzzled, pulling the door shut behind him. ‘Gladiolus,’ he said.

 

_ How the hell does he know the prince? _

 

‘Yeah,’ Gladio managed a smile. All his words had melted to grey.

 

Ignis smiled back, just as uncertain, and Gladio had a horrible urge to laugh. Suddenly he felt as though they were the parents of two kids on a schoolyard, stood together, trying to figure out what the hell was happening or what the hell they should do. Prompto and Noctis had fallen easily into conversation, and something sharp lanced through Gladio when he saw it.

 

_ If me and him were like that, _ he thought,  _ this would be way less awkward, and way more… _

 

What? Romantic?

 

‘You’re shivering so bad!’ Prompto clucked. ‘Don’t you see all the snow?’

 

‘I got a lift here and I’m gonna get one back, it’s not so bad,’

 

Prompto pouted, evidently not convinced, but relented when Noctis gave him a bump and directed his attention to his phone. Gladio looked sidelong at Ignis, who had been watching with a slight frown. The silence stretched out when their eyes met.

 

‘So, hey,’ Gladio said… and held a smile despite  _ dying _ on the inside.  _ Real conversation starter. “Hey.” Smooth. _

 

Ignis narrowed his eyes for a moment. ‘I didn’t expect to find you here,’ he said, adjusting the fit of his gloves around the wrist. Gladio’s eyes lingered on his hands and fingers, thinking of the music they made, how soft they might be-

 

‘No kidding,’ Gladio laughed, rubbing at his jawline. ‘sometimes feel like I should get a hobby,’

 

‘That doesn’t involve buses,’

 

Gladio had to bite back a smirk - there was no mistaking the way Ignis’ lips had quirked. His smile was equal parts good humour and genuine bewilderment… but Gladio could hardly fault him for that. It was getting to be a familiar feeling when they crossed paths. ‘Yeah, well, I guess we can’t all be musical geniuses, huh?’

 

Ignis looked askance, modestly, and Gladio felt his heart soar. The rosy feeling thawed when Prompto and Noctis laughed together (they both had their phones out now, playing that game Gladio would never admit that he didn’t understand). Ignis looked at them. Gladio took a breath, and now his head wasn’t full of  _ hearts and streamers _ he figured he ought to take a risk. He had to say something about the…  _ thing _ in the diner, didn’t he?

 

He took a step closer, wincing when Ignis looked up to him with surprise.

 

‘About my sister the other day - I’m sorry if that weirded you out. I swear, I didn’t put her up to it,’ he said, quietly, but the words felt too dull,  _ too much _ , and he wondered with a start if he’d just brought up something Ignis had been trying to quietly move past. Swearing under his breath, Gladio braced himself for a second try. ‘You don’t gotta do anything with what she gave you,’

 

‘Oh?’

 

_ Oh? What d’you mean oh? _ Gladio gawped and tried to read Ignis’ expression, but the slight smile was gone, and Gladio felt uncomfortably warm and cold at the same time, stifled under his coat but henpecked by the bite in the wind. Adrenaline sloughed through him, like ice down a slow moving river.

 

‘Yeah, but… I mean, if you  _ did _ want to, then that’s fine, too,’

 

Ignis looked away without saying more. Gladio exhaled a leaden breath, hoping there was enough momentum between them to carry this thing on. ‘You were awesome the other night, by the way,’

 

‘Oh, thank you,’

 

‘Not that you’re not awesome on other nights, but, y’know. Especially so.’

 

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said Ignis, with another of those polite smiles that made Gladio melt. Prompto caught his eye, then, and Gladio stoppered his answering grin and cleared his throat, shooting Prompto a brisk glower that he hoped would keep him out of this - it was messed up enough without someone else trying to stir the pot.

 

_ Or two someones _ , Gladio reminded himself, grimly. The Prompto-Iris alliance was gonna kick his ass as soon as it could form.

 

‘-get going, Dad wanted me home a half hour ago,’ Noctis was saying, giving Prompto a decidedly grim look.

 

Ignis frowned. ‘You didn’t mention that earlier, Noct,’ 

 

‘He’ll live,’

 

‘Even so, I’d rather not keep him waiting any longer than we already apparently have,’

 

‘Whatever you say, Mum,’

 

Prompto gave Noctis’ arm a playful jab. ‘Better do as you’re told,’

 

‘See you later?’

 

‘For sure,’

 

The pair didn’t hug, though Prompto seemed primed for it, and Gladio noticed the way Ignis averted his eyes long enough for  _ something _ to happen. Nothing did, but Gladio was reminded of the little mark on Prompto’s neck, and-

 

Ignis was looking at him. Gladio looked back, and watched him adjust his scarf with those pretty hands.

 

‘Another time, Gladiolus,’

 

‘Yeah,’

 

Noctis lead the way to the alley that’d take them around the building and towards the city centre, under boughs of Christmas lights and the shadows of glassy buildings. Gladio watched them go… and wanted real badly to sit down, to rewind and try again, or at least to hear Ignis do that half-laugh thing he did so sweetly. He heaved a sigh.

 

Then Prompto was stuck to his side like a barnacle, grinning.

 

‘You can unflex now,  _ Gladiolus _ ,’

 

Gladio didn’t say a word; he just shivered.

 

*                     *                     *

 

These tiny fold-up seats were gonna be the death of him… or at least his legs. Gladio shifted uncomfortably with a care not to be too disruptive, but the party of older women sat next to him were glued to what was happening on stage. The Company were doing their thing - a thing Gladio had seen, what, a dozen dozen times now? The other roadies might catch a show or two a tour and amuse themselves elsewhere during the rest, but being here in the crowd meant Gladio didn’t have to talk. Of course, it helped that Ignis was up there, too, in a white shirt all properly fitted, tight where it should be tight.

 

Gladio forced the thought to disperse. The music was loud enough to make it easy, and the Company’s singer, a petite woman, had a voice that could probably make all the glass in Insomnia rattle.

 

She wound her way through a love song in a language Gladio didn’t know. It was sombre, powerful, and the audience seemed collectively to hold its breath as she reached for the higher notes, exhaling when she went low; a tide lapping over the shore and moving the loose stones in its swathe.

 

For a while, Gladio could switch off. The plummet back into  _ fretting _ was inevitable, though, and the more persistent of his worries were there, reminding Gladio horribly of his father on nights where he’d broken a curfew as a teenager.

 

He frowned, and tried to tune himself out of his head and back into the music. It’d probably help if he knew any of the songs - they were slow, kinda hard to follow sometimes, and a far cry from the sort of stuff he listened to when he worked out. It was only Ignis that gave them meaning, and only then by watching him and spying a glimpse of his connection with the piano.

 

Ignis played without drawing attention to himself - neatly, easily - and when it was time for him to stop, he stopped, and only ever moved to turn the pages of his music or adjust his glasses with a touch.

 

Gladio hid in his scarf. He was too far from the stage to make out Ignis’ expression, so he relied on the other things he’d come to recognise, tells his body made. Sometimes Ignis would do the smallest of flourishes after a rally of notes, as though rounding them out properly, drawing out the melody like curling a ribbon. Sometimes he’d find himself leaning forward and would right himself with a start. Watching him like this, so closely, it was hard to reconcile the fact the the music he was making really was coming from  _ him _ \- something so bold from someone so modest and content to be faceless, thankless. It filled Gladio with a bittersweet pride that begged to go expressed…

 

_ He knows my name now, at least _ , Gladio thought to himself, shivering when he remembered the way Ignis had said it. 

 

_ Gladiolus _ .

 

The violins picked up the main thread of the music when the singer bowed her head. The women beside Gladio shared excited whispers without taking their eyes from the stage, and, once again, Gladio felt… left out, kinda.

 

After all, if he knew more about the music then he’d have more to talk about with Ignis. No more awkward shuffling, trying to navigate a conversation without bringing up something that had probably embarrassed them both.

 

Maybe Ignis would even give  _ him  _ a call…

 

Gladio joined the applause a half a second later than everyone else when it went thundering through the arena. The singer and her entourage took a bow, the violinists, too. Ignis kept his eyes low and barely seemed to move at all.

 

‘What a beautiful evening!’

 

The crowd whooped. Gladio bunkered down in his seat. It was strange to hear the little singer  _ speak _ and sound so… normal. She grinned back at the crowd, all with the airy confidence of a woman who’d seen a hundred hundred crowds before.

 

‘You’ll know this next one,’ she assured. ‘it’s an old tradition of ours, to close the shows in the capital with this,’

 

A violin began with a simple refrain. The singer nodded, and a smattering of applause rose up when recognition dawned in the crowd. Gladio stared back into the stage lights. All the thoughts, the  _ why am I here _ s, the  _ what the hell am I doing _ s, they all blurred to one uncertain feeling.

 

Then Ignis began playing.

  
  
  


Gladio went quickly out of the Arena after the curtain call. The night was in full bloom, now, and the crowd that had come surging out of the doors had thinned out, with people looking for their cars or the way to the metro station. Gladio followed in the swell for a time, wondering if he should hit up a bar and find another seat to stew in. It wasn’t midnight, yet, and he’d already screwed over the day with the pretzels he’d bought during intermission - why  _ not _ have a couple drinks on top of it?

 

Hollowly, he remembered what he’d joked to Ignis about. A hobby.

 

It was enough to dissuade him from chasing a beer or ten. Gladio walked without direction, thinking. Getting drunk would help take the edge off the overthinking crap, but it wasn’t worth the regret he’d wake up with tomorrow… or the splitting headache. Still, he didn't wanna head for home, either. Lying awake trying to sleep or reading the same paragraph over and over, yeah,  _ no thanks _ . Aimless wandering won out, and Gladio carried on putting one foot in front of the other. Insomnia glittered at night, brighter for the black and silken backdrop of the sky.

 

Gladio grumbled when his phone started to buzz (okay, so maybe Iris had been right about the vibrate thing - she could never know). He fished it out from his pocket and answered with a swipe and a gruff  _ hey _ .

 

‘Gladiolus?’

 

_ Prompto? _

 

No, wait… what? Gladio frowned, slowing to check the screen and number. Prompto’s fuzzy headed picture didn’t show, only a blank avatar, and the number wasn’t one he recognised.  _ Unless... _ With a thump in his chest, Gladio put the phone back to his ear.

 

‘Yeah, you got him,’

 

‘Oh, good. I was making sure,’

 

‘Ignis?’ Gladio stared on ahead to where the street lamps turned the undisturbed snow that lined the walls orange.

 

‘Pardon me, yes. I should’ve said,’

 

Gladio followed the thick of the crowd along the cobbled street that lead to the Crown City’s centre. Acutely, painfully, aware of how his heart was racing, Gladio fumbled for words. ‘Oh, hey!’  _ He must’ve bailed on the post-show shit. _ ‘You okay?’

 

‘I am, thank you. I’ve not long finished on stage, actually,’

 

Gladio gave a nervous laugh. ‘Yeah, I… uh, mighta been there, too,’

 

‘Tonight?’ The surprise rang out clear in Ignis’ voice.

 

‘Yeah, hey, I like the classical stuff, too!’ Gladio said, and it wasn’t a  _ lie _ per se. He stood waiting for the lights to change at a zebra crossing then, taking the chance to rein himself in while he was at it. This could be a work call, after all - sometimes musicians had problems with the transport, but usually they went through other staff. Ignis didn’t seem like the type to try and skip bureaucracy with a direct line to a roadie, but, well… “Is everything okay?’

 

‘Oh, yes, it’s just…’ Ignis started, and seemed to be moving around. A buzz of another conversation passed him by and Gladio crossed the road, breaking off from the others to slip down a quieter street. ‘Earlier today you mentioned that I ought to call, or you seemed like you wanted me to, ah…’

 

‘Call me?’

 

‘Yes,’

 

Gladio couldn’t help a grin. ‘Yeah, I did,’

 

‘I’ve taken you by surprise again,’

 

‘You’ve got a bad habit of doin’ that, yeah,’ Gladio conceded, biting his lip. Too much wanted to be said, there were too many questions burning, and most of all he wanted to hear Ignis speak. Gladio turned a corner and found himself on the Insomnian high street. He went lightly over the cobbles and blinked up at the ten-foot tree looming large at the opposite end, ripe with lights and tinsel and delicate crystal ornaments. ‘The show was great tonight, by the way,’

 

‘It ran on a little longer than we expected,’

 

‘Big plans?’ Gladio asked, and immediately wished he hadn’t.  _ What are you gonna do if he says he’s got a hot date? _

 

‘I planned specifically to have none, so yes, but no,’

 

Gladio held his eyes closed for a sec, exhaling. ‘Me too,’

 

‘Maybe you and your sister could do something? Iris?’

 

‘Are you kidding? She’s banned from the conversation after the trouble she caused,’

 

‘Trouble?’

 

‘Hounding you in that goddamn diner,’

 

‘She hardly hounded me,’ Ignis said, and did it - that little laugh that Gladio practically felt prickling over his skin, despite the coat, despite the jumper. ‘she was… charming.’

 

‘That’s a nice way of saying a  _ shit _ ,’

 

‘She looks up to you a great deal,’

 

There was more clatter on Ignis’ end of the line. Was he backstage, still? Surely he had a hotel room he’d rather be in, with the door locked and the hot water running into the tub. Gladio ran a hand through his hair, taking in a deep breath of the cold to kennel that particular line of thought.

 

‘Most people do,’

 

‘I’ve noticed,’

 

_ Did he… just lower his voice? _ Gladio coughed a little. His mind was running away from him. So what, Ignis had noticed he was  _ tall _ \- hadn’t he just said most other people did, too?

 

‘Gladiolus-’

 

_ Fuck me.  _ That... wasn’t helping.

 

‘Just Gladio, please, you’re gonna give me a heart attack if you keep saying it like that,’

 

Ignis laughed again, more decidedly this time. ‘ _ Gladio _ . I should get going. I only meant to make sure this was your number and not a hotline for something else,’

 

There was no outrunning that one; Gladio fruitlessly tried to stop  _ Ignis _ and  _ dirty talk _ cross pollinate, picking up the pace like he had a chance of outrunning the daydream that was gonna haunt him tonight.

 

‘Sure thing. It was nice getting to talk without the kids,’

 

‘Noctis and Prompto?’

 

‘Ankle biters, yeah,’

 

Ignis gave a  _ hmm _ . ‘Indeed,’

 

‘We should do this again,’ Gladio blurted before he could stop himself. He kept a deathly grip on his phone and berated himself silently for taking a mile when Ignis had only just given an inch. There was something in the air as crisp as the snowfall and the clean canvas of stars overhead, unmarred by clouds or the moon, a sliver or otherwise. Things were clearer, and it felt good to move.

 

It felt better when Ignis laughed.

 

‘Shall I book you in for an appointment next week?’

 

Gladio grinned. ‘Hell yeah,’ he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to get up! i wrote this a while ago but just couldn't get it to work like i had intended... it was one of those chapters that just didn't Feel right for the longest time, but i managed to wrestle it into shape eventually...... its a christmas miracle...
> 
>  
> 
> happy holidays to everyone celebrating, and thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Now that they’d shared a less formal introduction, Ignis began to notice Gladio everywhere; after rehearsals, in the coffee shops he frequented, or the hallways of the hotel in the small hours of the morning. It’d reached a point where Ignis found himself  _ expecting _ to see him, and it didn't entirely make sense.

 

They were little more than strangers - or perhaps acquaintances after the smattering of texts and calls they’d exchanged over the past week. The conversations were brief and polite, often regarding a show or some such, but even so, Ignis had learned to recognise Gladio’s humour when it cropped up, and his answers were otherwise direct but… softly spoken.

 

He was shier in person, though. Or, well, at least around Ignis. He always seemed on the verge of saying something or halfway across the world in his mind’s eye - strange, considering how often Ignis saw him laughing and roughhousing with Prompto. Ignis had come to the conclusion that it definitely was  _ him _ , somehow, but not if it were a good or bad thing.

 

_ This could all still be a joke _ , he thought to himself, loitering in the doorway of the Arena’s backstage lounge; a small enough room at the best of times, but rendered tiny tonight by the musicians and directors packed in to share a case of champagne. Ignis wanted very much to leave; there was a bath in his hotel room calling his name.

 

He shifted, and watched Gladio talking easily with a brace of other drivers despite standing a head higher than them.

 

Ignis couldn’t explain away the butterflies he felt when he crossed the room to Gladio’s side. These parties (or “networking opportunities” as they were referred to with a wink) were practically mandatory in a social sense, and it’d count if he stood a while and spoke to Gladio, wouldn’t it?

 

The butterflies intensified when Gladio saw him stared, wide-eyed, his glass halfway to his mouth. He smiled a moment later, and Ignis returned it.

 

‘Fancy seeing you here,’ Gladio said.

 

Ignis laughed without humour, then gestured. ‘I don’t mean to interrupt,’

 

Gladio blinked and glanced over his shoulder, but his group’s conversation had evidently moved on without him. He turned his back and shook his head. ‘Nah, you’re good. You okay?’

 

‘I am, thank you.’ said Ignis, but the words jarred and came out sounding… wrong. This  _ was _ a party, and Gladio a good man; two unfamiliar concepts to Ignis, but he’d muddle through. ‘This isn’t quite my scene,’

 

Gladio nodded at that, looking around the room with a heavy sigh. The violinists had taken the couch and were talking through the night’s performance - quite drunkenly. ‘Not gonna join the huddle?’

 

Ignis spared them a glance.  _ They’ll only be complaining come the morning _ , he thought, realising with a frown that it’d be  _ him _ they’d complain to. ‘No, I don’t think so,’

 

‘They steal the spotlight on and off the stage, huh?’

 

‘My name’s in the programme,’ Ignis countered.

 

Gladio raised a brow, frowning. ‘Yeah, I know - and it’s tiny,’

 

Ignis blinked at that.  _ He knew? And he’s concerned about the size? _ At a loss for how to respond, Ignis looked at Gladio in a way he hadn’t really been able to thus far. The crowded room provided enough of a reason for this close-quarters conversation, and it was only polite to look at the person you were talking with, wasn’t it? He always saw Gladio’s scar first, and wondered what on earth could have caused it and not also taken away his sight. It cut upwards across Gladio’s amber stare and admittedly pretty eyelashes. He had more of a beard now than he had done in the summer, though Ignis didn’t mind that, exactly.

 

Gladio started to smile at him. Ignis cleared his throat. ‘Sorry,’

 

‘What for?’ Gladio tilted his head. ‘Hey, so you really don’t wanna stick around?’

 

‘Not especially,’ Ignis replied, beyond grateful he hadn’t had to answer the  _ what for? _

 

‘Alright, c’mon,’

 

Gladio put his glass on the windowsill next to a potted plant ( _ which… isn’t where glasses ought to go _ ) and flashed Ignis a sparkling smile, turning towards the door and clearly expecting him to follow. For a moment he didn’t, and felt impossibly stuck to the party. It was garish and loud - but familiar. Gladio would lead him outside, about as far away from his plan of a quiet bath and an early bed as he could possibly get.  _ And what if he wants to go to a bar, or- _

 

Gladio glanced back and met Ignis’ eyes. He didn’t beckon or call, only waited, and Ignis took a breath and made his choice.

 

Impulsivity had never been his strong suit, but Ignis hoped this would be less a risk and a nascent regret, and more like a curiosity being offered to him, to take with his own hands. A prickle went across his skin as he went back through the crowd after Gladio, and Gladio grinned when he saw him.

 

After stopping to fetch their coats, Gladio walked Ignis from the venue and along the highstreet cobbles. They crunched over grit and the last dregs of snow from the morning, passed under the strings of lights that went from lamp to lamp, and it wasn’t so late that the streets were quiet. In fact, Ignis heard a commotion in the distance and looked sidelong to Gladio, who raised a brow and smiled… but said nothing more beyond _ “nice night for it”. _

 

He didn’t seem to mind that Ignis was quiet. Though, Ignis decided he’d have to show Gladio what he  _ did _ like one of these days, seeing as all he had to go off at the moment was probably “piano, coffee, not a crowd guy”.

 

‘Oh damn, okay,’ Gladio started when they turned onto the street that lead past the older buildings in the Crown City, just under the shadow of the Citadel. ‘so, I didn’t think there’d be this many people still here at this time of night… but, uh,’

 

Ignis looked from Gladio to the square, but it was gone. Instead, there was an ice rink.

 

_ That explains the noise _ , he thought, and suddenly remembered hearing Noctis mention  _ skates _ on the phone yesterday. He’d assumed he’d meant the regular kind. Wheels. Not… blades, on  _ ice _ . Realising that Gladio was waiting for an actual perceptible reaction, Ignis took in a breath.

 

‘You… want to try it?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Gladio said, brightly - and that was that. Simple. Ignis looked back at the rink where two dozen or so people were making their way around in a loop. Some went easily, chatting all the while, others raced around the centre, and a few clawed their way round via the edge of the rink on wobbly legs. Ignis saw a horrible premonition of his own efforts in the latter. ‘Did you see Prompto’s pictures? We gotta do better than him,’

 

He was only teasing, but still, Ignis felt a flicker of dread. ‘I rather doubt we will. Gladio,’ he said, and the dread got so very much worse when Gladio’s smile softened to concern. ‘I can’t skate,’

 

Gladio looked surprised.

 

‘Hey, that’s alright, I’m not gonna be throwing you around like they do on TV,’

 

‘I appreciate that,’ Ignis said, dryly.

 

‘Come on,’ Gladio said, and his smile was back, teasing again. ‘I gotcha.’

 

Once more lamenting his bed and bath, Ignis followed. They exchanged their shoes for skates and Gladio covered the cost of two entry tickets, refusing to hear Ignis’ offer to pay for his himself. Over the talking (and occasional  _ yelp _ as someone fell down) there was the usual seasonal soundtrack, and the wardens on the ice all sported elf hats… which didn’t make the prospect of falling any less  _ awful _ . Gladio stepped out onto the ice first, then offered his arm to Ignis.

 

And he took it without thinking too much about it.

 

‘Easy, there you go. See, not so- _ woah _ , hold on,’ Gladio grinned, and kindly held back his laughter when Ignis’ first step took him completely by surprise. Ice was slippy - who knew. He righted himself with Gladio’s help and clung all the more tightly to his arm. ‘you’re all legs, aren’t you?’

 

Ignis looked up at him, already red in the face. Gladio gaped.

 

‘I mean it in a good way, not like…’ he started, but cut himself short with a curse, beginning to slowly move them around the rink. ‘ _ Hey _ , here’s an idea - why don’t you talk so I can quit saying dumb shit,’

 

‘It’s a good distraction,’

 

‘You’re doin’ fine, Iggy,’ Gladio said. Ignis blinked. ‘think about it less like walking and more like… pushing, you know? Yeah, there you go,’

 

Admittedly, doing so did feel easier, even if Ignis thought this business of  _ pushing _ would just as quickly land him on his backside. He measured out his paces to match Gladio’s, trying to mimic his easy movements and glad to have him at his side. He was a solid reassurance, strong, though he’d been nothing but gentle so far.

 

Ignis felt another strange shiver and decided to focus elsewhere.

 

‘How’s Iris?’

 

‘Good, yeah,’ Gladio said, nodding. ‘she was jazzed you remembered her the other day,’

 

‘You two are close, then? Despite the age gap?’

 

‘For the most part.’ Gladio slowed when they took the corner, past a miniaturised Christmas Tree, following a clutch of skaters wrapped up similarly against the cold. ‘Dad does a lot of security work, means the house is empty more often than not,’

 

‘You live together?’ Ignis asked, recalling that Gladio sometimes went elsewhere after a show.

 

‘I got a little apartment nearby, but Iris, I mean… she’s just a kid,’

 

‘She seems very bright,’

 

‘She is, yeah,’ Gladio said proudly. ‘way brighter than me, put it that way. Not like she doesn’t know it, either,’

 

Ignis laughed. ‘I think you’re being modest,’

 

‘Oh, man, I wish my Dad coulda heard you say that,’ Gladio winked.

 

Ignis held Gladio’s gaze and felt himself smiling still, until he stumbled once more on the ice. His heart thumped though he managed to balance himself in time before taking a tumble. Gladio chuckled and set a hand to the small of his back, and even through his coat and shirt Ignis felt the warm of him. It was just a touch for just a second. Ignis exhaled, and slipped his arm through Gladio’s again.

 

‘Easy tiger. The boss’ll kick my ass if you break a finger or something.’ he said, and then that look came over him again; wide-eyed and startled. ‘I’d kick it myself too,’ he assured.

 

‘I’m alright,’ said Ignis, though his heart hadn’t gotten the memo yet.

 

Gladio nodded, and then, as before, lead the way around the rink. ‘You met him, by the way? The boss?’

 

‘The director?’

 

‘No, Noctis’ parents. You and his son looked like you knew each other when we bumped into you that time,’

 

‘Ah, you mean the King?’

 

Gladio laughed. ‘Yeah, that’s the one,’

 

Ignis found his rhythm again, taking small gliding steps alongside Gladio and finding that he was starting to notice other things, too. He’d wobble still from time to time, but now he saw the spotlights dancing over the ice and heard the pleasant scrape of blades. Even the air was crisp to breathe, moreso with Gladio’s warmth close at his side to balance things out.

 

‘The King has known my parents for a while, yes,’ Ignis explained. ‘and Noctis and I grew up in a similar fashion, though I was old enough to help from time to time,’

 

‘Babysitting?’

 

‘Amongst other things.’ Ignis replied with a smirk. ‘The hope was that Noctis would develop more of a social inclination.’

 

‘Did he?’

 

Ignis shook his head. ‘He’s a private young man,’

 

‘Nothing wrong with that. I hope they didn’t blame you for it turning out that way,’

 

‘No, but I have wondered myself,’ Ignis admitted. After all, he was hardly the most vivacious person - if he’d made more of an effort to school his own outlook, then perhaps things would’ve been different for both of them.  _ Maybe I’d still live at home. _

 

‘You can’t torture yourself like that. Some people just aren’t wired that way, you know? Nothing you coulda done to help that, and besides,’ Gladio said, with a smile Ignis was drawn into all over again. ‘you must have been young, too,’

 

‘I was, I sup- _ oh, f- _ ’

 

Ignis saw the lights blur and Gladio’s smile stutter before landing hard on his butt. The impact shook him dully, rattling him from head to toe.

 

‘Woah, you okay?’ Gladio asked, with such a note of alarm in his voice that Ignis lost his words. He took Gladio’s hand when he offered it, grimacing.

 

‘I’m… yes,’ he muttered, wiping the snow from his coat and looking shyly back to Gladio, who… was still really more concerned than he needed to be. Ignis exhaled and let go of his hand. ‘I think I’ll have a bruise come the morning, though,’

 

‘Shit, that’s my bad. This wasn’t part of the plan,’

 

‘You planned this?’ Ignis asked.

 

Gladio’s blush was a sight for sore eyes… and a sore tailbone. ‘Oh, yeah… I mean,’ he ran a hand through his hair and Ignis watched, noting how easily his fingers combed through it. ‘do you wanna stop?’

 

Strange - he thought he  _ would _ , but...

 

Ignis shook his head. ‘I think I have the hang of it, now,’

  
  
  


Half an hour later they were stood behind the railing that went around the massive tree at the top of the highstreet. There were no fireworks or carols, but there was something to be said for the lengths of tinsel and little lights blinking from between the boughs. Of course, it was the same tree as was always put up here this time of year, but Ignis had never stopped to really  _ look _ before, and especially not under these sorts of circumstances.

 

He sipped the coffee he’d bought to assuage the shivers (ice was cold, again, who knew), and his mind was so full of questions beginning to bloom and all the bright smiles of the night that he didn’t even think to return Gladio’s jacket to him.

 

Gladio had taken it off and draped it across Ignis’ shoulders once they’d finished in the rink.  _ You already got a battle wound, I won’t let you catch a cold, too, _ he’d said, and only smiled and added  _ I’m good _ when Ignis pointed out that he couldn’t well stand around outside in a jumper.

 

Now, Gladio looked up at the lights, too. They reflected back in his eyes a dozen times over. Knowing he had to say something before the night was through, Ignis watched, quietly, mulling through the  _ everything _ that’d happened so quickly.

 

It barely felt like the same night - scant hours ago he’d been on stage, thinking only of when to turn the music and what the next morning would bring in terms of weather. Now, though…

 

Gladio’s collarbones peeked out from the neck of his jumper. Ignis looked away quickly, but only to note the broadness of his shoulders, his chest, too. He’d always thought  _ he _ was tall, but Gladio… well. Ignis took another sip.  _ He’s been a gentleman all evening and this is what you’re thinking about? _

 

As if meaning to apologise, Ignis mustered more of the impulsivity Gladio had ignited in him, and took his hand.

 

Gladio looked at him with a start, glanced down at their hands, then back up with a wonderfully bemused smile - the same shy expression Ignis saw so often. Something clicked into place for him then, but… no, it couldn’t be so straightforward, could it?

 

_ He barely knows me… _

 

Tonight had made that less true.

 

Ignis gave Gladio’s hand a squeeze, more to bring himself out of his thoughts than anything, but smiled when Gladio returned the gesture.

 

‘Thank you this, Gladio,’

 

‘You got it. Never seen you smile so much,’ Gladio replied quietly, then laughed when Ignis felt himself redden. ‘hey, no, you can’t stop now!’

 

Mortified, Ignis bit back the smile that threatened. But Gladio was quite right - there was a testifying ache in his cheeks. It just felt like the right thing to do in Gladio’s company. He inched closer, Gladio’s own smile tapered a touch.

 

‘We should do this again,’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

How could he resist such a hopeful look? He’d learned that tonight through all the smiles and the talk - Gladio  _ was _ direct and honest, and more than a little bit bold, frankly. Ignis didn’t dislike it, though, quite the opposite. He nodded and twined their fingers together properly. 

 

‘Certainly,’

 

When Gladio laughed and bowed his head, biting his lip, Ignis thought to himself with a pang of affection that perhaps, after all, this wasn’t a joke at his expense.

 

*                     *                     *

 

Ignis closed the bathroom door behind him, fresh in new pyjamas, and noticed with a start the hoodie hanging on the back of the armchair. He paused in a half-step, chastising himself for not returning it to Gladio in the lobby - the poor man had a cold enough commute back to his apartment as it was.

 

For a moment Ignis toyed with the idea of giving him a call, but it was past eleven now, so too late for Gladio to come and collect it, right?

 

Quickly, he kennelled the notion and the voice that said  _ not necessarily _ ; Ignis was tired, and not entirely in his most rational state of mind.

 

It would explain why he folded the jacket over his arm and sat on the bed with it. Fatigue was just now creeping in around the edges of his thoughts, pleasantly so, and he looked to the clouds passing through the starfield. He’d left the curtains open a sliver to watch and let in a little of the light from the city, and on a warmer day he’d have opened the windows, too, being partial to the drowsy sounds of the roads below at night.

 

As it was, he had more than enough to distract him from the usual pre-bed minutia of anxious thoughts.

 

Ignis draped the jacket around himself on a whim, mimicking how Gladio had done it himself not so long ago. It was far too big to wear practically, but like this, as a blanket of sorts, it was…  _ nice _ . Ignis settled back against the pillow propped up at the headboard and thought idly of how it felt sort of like a h-

 

_ Oh, no. _

 

That was a dangerous line of thought. Ignis decided he’d  _ slipped _ quite enough for one day and took off his glasses, setting them neatly alongside his phone and keys.  _ Of course, if I had hugged him tonight, it’d feel more solid than this. _

 

He sighed.

 

Solid, but gentle. Ignis recalled the tenderness of Gladio’s hand in his own.

 

He adjusted his weight on the bed and made to move the jacket’s arms around his shoulders, but his hand strayed into one of the pockets instead. Finding something papery inside, a receipt maybe, Ignis drew it out and unfolded it, peering in the lamplight. He smiled when he recognised the date on the slip - had it been so long already since Iris had come bounding up to him with her brother’s number?

 

Gladio had bought her quite an extravagant number of pastries according to this debit receipt.

 

Noticing a scribble on the reverse, Ignis flipped it and felt another prickle across his freshly bathed skin. There were doodles in blue biro that had to be Gladio’s; cups and mugs, a portrait of Iris with a hand on her hip and a speech bubble that said  _ cats cats cats cats _ , and a half a dozen hearts in the corner.

 

The more he uncovered about Gladio, the more surprises he found - all of them strangely endearing. Ignis smiled to himself and refolded the slip, setting it beneath his glasses.

 

He hunkered down in the bed then, pulling the plush duvet over his knees and flicking on the TV. It was an odd feeling to be having so late at night, bubbly and bright, not at all what he was used to. Ignis exhaled softly and brought up the TV guide, lost in warm memories that weren’t yet an hour old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! again sorry for the delay, but i really enjoyed writing this one................... now the pining can commence properly
> 
> come bother me on tunglr also (nightrunning.tumblr.com)! im thinking of doing some prompts (god i typed promptos) and stuff, so let me know if you have anything you'd like to see


	5. Chapter 5

‘So, how’d it go?’

 

‘What, the show? Yeah, pretty g-’

 

‘No!’ Iris squawked, and pointed with her fork at Gladio across the diner table. ‘The date.’

 

‘Date.’ Gladio echoed. If she meant the thing with Ignis the other night… that hadn’t been a date, right? He didn’t let himself think too deeply about it and steeled his expression before it could give him away. Too late, maybe. Iris started to smile.

 

‘Prompto told me,’

 

_ And how the hell does he know?! _

 

Gladio untensed his jaw. ‘Prompto told you what?’

 

He met Iris’ challenging stare, daring him to cave, knowing she was too nosey to keep it up much longer. ‘That you and Ignis went on a date!’

 

‘Did he.’

 

Iris grinned and Gladio realised he’d never find out how Prompto learned this secret stuff so quickly; he sighed and looked down at his empty cup, wishing there was still something hot inside to curl his hands around. The diner was pretty full considering the time, but he and Iris had snagged their usual seats near the door. It was a weekly ritual now, and no amount of snow (or hail, as it had been for the last hour this morning) was gonna put them off it.

 

Iris had finished off her pancakes as though she hadn’t eaten in a week, too.

 

‘So, how’d it go?’ she asked.

 

‘Prompto’s talking outta his ass. There wasn’t a date,’

 

‘No?’

 

Gladio’s resolve wavered at the last moment. He glanced away from Iris and mumbled. ‘Not really,’

 

Iris set the fork down to clap her hands together. She leaned forward, and Gladio couldn’t help a sheepish sorta smile when he looked at her.

 

‘Tell.’ she said.

 

‘We went ice skating…’

 

‘Oh my god, that’s so-’ Iris started, but cut herself off laughing. Gladio didn’t peered at her with a horrible twist in his stomach - if there was something…  _ wrong _ about it, about taking him ice skating, and he hadn’t realised it…

 

‘What?’ he frowned.

 

Iris tilted her head, still smiling. ‘No! Nothing, it’s just that’s actually kind of cute,’

 

‘Cute,’

 

‘For you? Yes,’

 

Gladio gave her a sour look. ‘Thanks,’

 

Unphased, Iris raised an eyebrow. ‘Did you kiss?’

 

‘No!’ Gladio barked, louder than he’d meant to. He realised it with a burn in his cheeks and looked immediately back at his cup. He’d been doing his best to avoid thinking of that. Ignis was kinda shy, and Gladio got the impression he was new to this…  _ dating _ stuff - the last thing he wanted to do was send him running by demanding too much to soon.

 

_ But imagine if he kissed you one day in the car, or wherever... _

 

Would he need a little encouragement to warm into it, or would he take the lead and turn Gladio pliable in those pretty hands of his?

 

‘Moving on,’ Gladio said, pushing the mug away and suppressing a shiver.

 

‘Okay, well, did you get him anything?’ Iris pressed. It wasn’t as far  _ on _ as Gladio would have liked to have  _ moved _ but he’d take it.

 

‘Yeah, I bought the tickets,’

 

‘No, not like that. I mean like, something he can hold onto. A keepsake,’ Iris explained, and Gladio listened with renewed interest, worrying his bottom lip.

 

‘Shit, no. I didn’t,’

 

‘You’re such a rookie,’ Iris smirked. She knew she had him now, dammit. ‘but it’s alright, we can save this. How’d the night end? Not with a kiss, obviously.’

 

Gladio huffed.

 

‘Alright, I guess? He said he wanted to do it again and I was like,  _ sure _ you know? He left a voicemail.’

 

‘And you haven’t replied to it yet?’ Iris replied, her hand hovering dangerously close to the fork again…

 

‘I was asleep!’ Gladio said, but the guilt struck at him all the same. It didn’t compare to how it’d felt the morning after, seeing the little icon on his screen and then the time and date. He and Ignis had spoken since then, sure, and Ignis reassured him it was nothing to worry about - a formality, if anything, but Gladio still worried. Wondering what the hell was possessing him to do so, he pulled his phone from his pocket and navigated to the message for Iris.

 

He hit play and put it on the table between them, then propped up his elbow and held his head.

 

‘- _ thank you again for tonight, I had a really lovely time. And I did enjoy myself despite the mishaps. _ ’ said voicemail-Ignis. Iris mouthed the word  _ mishaps _ . ‘ _ Next time let’s do something on more solid footing. Goodnight, Gladio. _ ’

 

Gladio paused the recording. Iris stared at the phone, then at Gladio, blankly.

 

‘Woah,’ she whispered.

 

‘Good woah?’

 

‘I mean, for him? Yeah.’

 

Gladio brightened at that. ‘Yeah?’

 

The chime above the diner door jingled and Gladio braced himself for another rush of cold air. It was pitch black outside save for where the street lamps were lit, and each time someone walked inside in a black coat Gladio would look up, hoping…

 

Iris shivered and pulled her jumper sleeves over her hands. ‘He seems pretty reserved usually, so that was kind of a lot for him, you know?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Gladio agreed, running a hand through his hair. ‘I got that too,’

 

‘It’s definitely promising.’ Iris went on. ‘Just… don’t be an idiot about this,’

 

‘Thanks, yeah. I’ll be sure to remember that,’

 

‘I  _ mean _ , remember you aren’t the only thing going on for him right now in terms of… life,’ she said, gesturing around at the other tables as though they were the all encompassing firmament of human experience. A couple were sat together in the booth behind Iris, sharing a plate with easy smiles. Gladio looked away, listening still - Iris  _ got _ this, somehow. ‘so even if you’re super stuck on him, remember  _ that _ ,’

 

‘He is a busy guy, yeah,’

 

‘Yeah! So have patience. Maybe don’t make every time you hang out about the big  _ you and him _ , you know? For as much as you wanna do the kissing, you wanna be friends with him too, right?’

 

_ Do the kissing.  _ Gladio groaned.

 

‘You’re right.’

 

It was, admittedly, a good point. He didn’t know what he’d been angling for ‘til now. Maybe he’d assumed the friendship would come after the point when they were more official.  _ If we get there, I mean, _ he thought, with another lurch and a psychic apology. He glanced at Iris and found her without her usual smirk or barrage of questions, locked and loaded.

 

She just smiled. ‘What was that? I don’t think I caught it,’

 

‘Don’t push it, smartass,’ Gladio replied, but there was no bite in it.

 

Iris beamed. ‘Next time you should do something more talky. No more ice skating - at least not for now,’

 

‘Sure,’

 

‘So, play the rest,’

 

Gladio didn’t follow until she nodded at his phone.  _ The voicemail? _ He paused a moment - he hadn’t wanted to, not really, but Iris was being such a weirdly good sport with all this, and he did appreciate a listening ear. It’d make the cab ride back to the house a hell of a lot more bearable, too. Gladio hit the play button before he could think himself out of it.

 

‘ _ Oh, and I will return your hoodie. I promise. _ ’

 

Iris’ smile grew to a grin. ‘Aw!’ she cooed, swatting at Gladio’s hand. ‘You said you didn’t give him anything!’

 

‘Yeah, but it’s not like I bought it for him. It just kinda happened. He was cold and he’s a slim guy, y’know?’

 

‘Uh huh,’

 

Gladio refused to blush again. Nope. ‘Anyway,’ he said, feeling a betraying heat in his cheeks. ‘I told him he could keep it. I don’t want it back,’

 

Iris tilted her head. ‘I bet you don’t,’

 

That obvious, huh? Gladio lost the fight to stay above the rising tide of curiosity, and he wondered what Ignis had done with the hoodie when he’d gotten back to his room. Was it folded up somewhere, or could he have worn it more than that one time?  _ Probably not, _ Gladio reasoned, thinking that it was more likely on a nice hanger, but the image of Ignis bundled in it was too much. Gladio groaned and rubbed at his eyes.

 

Iris was laughing. At him.

 

‘You’re hopeless,’ she chimed.

 

Gladio didn’t even refute it.

 

*                     *                     *

 

‘You really won’t keep it?’

 

Ignis’ smile didn’t falter when he shook his head. A week had passed and still he wouldn’t be convinced - Gladio had worried at first that it was a signal he was missing, a taciturn  _ back off _ , but seeing Ignis in the here and now looking at him so openly, he realised it was just a matter of propriety.

 

‘It’s yours,’ Ignis said simply. He’d come to pick Gladio up from a long day at the tattoo parlour, and there was a redness on his cheeks from the bite of the wind, cooler now the sun had begun to slip. His car was parked around the block and Ignis had walked Gladio from door to door. ‘I wouldn’t want you to be cold,’

 

Gladio laughed a little. There was no chance of that - if he felt anything it was kinda numb. In a good way.

 

Well, not all of him. His arm ached like hell after five hours in the chair, but the outlines were done and ready to be shaded - though Gladio was hardly looking forward to that. He rolled his shoulder experimentally, then saw Ignis trying to stifle his shivers, watching him.

 

Their eyes met, and for a moment Gladio was struck with a tugging whim to close the gap and pull Ignis into a one-armed hug… but he didn’t.

 

Iris’ voice lingered too clearly in his head.

 

‘I’m plenty warm,’ he said instead, softly.

 

Ignis gave him a small smile. ‘Aren’t you lucky,’

 

Gladio had been about to return the teasing when something in Ignis’ expression struck him as…  _ wrong _ . Perhaps it showed on his face; Ignis glanced away.

 

‘Hey, is everything-’  _ Alright? Obviously not.  _ Gladio winced and cut himself short. ‘I mean, you okay?’

 

Ignis exhaled. He was quiet in a way he hadn’t been since they’d started this quasi-dating thing, and it struck Gladio like a blow. ‘I’ll explain during the drive?’

 

‘Yeah,’ said Gladio. ‘yeah, if you wanna, sure,’

 

Knowing that it was easier to talk about stuff when you were doing something else, Gladio took shotgun in the car and stretched out his legs with a sigh. He belted up, checked the wrapping was still tight to his arm under his jacket, and watched Ignis start the car and get them moving onto the road.

 

‘It’s a work issue,’ he said, steering them away from the southern quarter of the city back to the main thoroughfare. ‘and it shouldn’t be an issue at all, but… it very much  _ is _ ,’

 

‘Work?’

 

Ignis nodded. ‘The director wants two new pieces before the new year,’

 

Gladio gaped when the reality of that dawned on him. ‘As in next week?’

 

‘The deadline was in place far before that, but yes.’

 

‘Woah, what the hell?’

 

‘As I said, it shouldn’t be a problem. I used to be able to compose things quite regularly,’ Ignis went on, keeping an eye on the road and a hand on the wheel. There was a stiffness in his shoulders and in the way he sat that belied what was happening under the veneer of calm, and Gladio felt helpless to do much of anything to help. ‘in fact, I have one of the pieces almost finished. I wrote it some time ago and it isn’t perfect by any means, but, well, needs must,’

 

‘Geez, I’m sorry,’

 

‘Hmm. It’s the second that’s giving me trouble,’

 

_ Trouble. _ Like a naughty kid or something, not an impossible demand made by a guy on high thinking about the profit in it. Gladio scoffed, equal parts horrified and humbled - Ignis’ composure, shaken as it was, was still pretty resolute.  _ He’s just going along with this? _

 

‘Can’t you have a word with the guy?’ he urged.

 

‘I’ve had months to do it,’ Ignis said, looking at Gladio sidelong. ‘I haven’t been  _ able _ . Nothing’s come to me. And besides,’ he added more dryly. ‘this is my job, which is apparently on the line,’

 

‘ _ What? _ ’

 

‘He told me so last week, yes,’

 

Gladio rubbed at his jaw with a hand that wanted to curl into a fist. ‘This guy sounds like the worst kind of tool. Has he ever written anything? Like, music anything?’

 

‘I doubt it,’ Ignis conceded.

 

‘Exactly. And hey, creative stuff always has a cycle. Don’t beat yourself up for that.’

 

‘He won’t care to hear it,’ said Ignis. ‘as true as it is,’

 

‘Want me to kick his ass?’

 

Ignis blinked and looked to him with that perfectly puzzled expression he got. He was quicker to smile now, which meant either Gladio’s jokes were getting better (though how it was possible to improve on perfection he didn’t know) or he was getting better at recognising them… or both, ideally. Gladio winked, and Ignis smiled a little too before turning his attention back to the road.

 

‘If all else fails,’ he said.

 

The traffic crawled along the main Insomnian road; rush hour had begun.

 

Ignis didn’t speak more about his dilemma and Gladio didn’t press him, seeing as he was certain it was all already taking up more than enough of Ignis’ thoughts. Instead, they settled into a comfortable silence watching the traffic shift inch by inch. Ignis stayed focused, and Gladio cast an eye around the interior of Ignis’ car; pristine, of course, without a single stray mark or scratch.

 

He only looked away when Ignis stifled a yawn with the back of his hand; a proper full-bodied yawn.

 

Gladio frowned. ‘You been sleeping?’

 

Ignis looked at him. ‘When I can,’

 

‘Yeah, well,’ Gladio started, smiling to temper his words into a softer shape. ‘do it some more, alright? I know it’s not that easy but you gotta take care of yourself,’

 

‘I know,’ Ignis said, and nodded graciously.

 

‘Just imagine what you’d say to Noctis and then say that to yourself,’

 

‘Believe me, sleeping is the one thing I don’t have to lecture him about getting enough of,’

 

Gladio laughed at that. Ignis had told him of his woes tryna get the kid within a mile of something green on a plate.

 

‘I wish I could help. Not with Noctis, with… y’know,’

 

‘You do,’ said Ignis. It wasn’t a question - Gladio looked to him, and they shared a smile that wasn’t the most bright or brilliant, but no less sweet or important.

 

Gladio felt a full grin threaten when Ignis looked away after a moment, gone shy. He glanced away too, wondering what Ignis saw in his eyes when they shared these little moments, and the two of them lapsed back into the silence from before.

 

The traffic thinned after a stretch, so Ignis took to the quieter residential roads beneath the towering apartment blocks and the looming shadow of the Citadel, ever watching, and after a minute or two Gladio pointed out the Amicitia house with a swell of regret in his chest; it was all ending too fast. They’d arranged this  _ pick-up  _ a couple nights ago when Ignis had asked about Gladio’s plans for the day. In all honesty he’d been looking forward to the car ride as much as the tattoo.

 

Ignis pulled up at the end of the driveway, turned the key, and the car shuddered and stilled. Out of the window the sky was shifting to a deeper blue, and inside a new silence blanketed the two of them strangely.

 

‘Thanks for this,’ Gladio said.

 

‘It was no bother,’

 

‘Man, I wanna sleep… not clean this up,’ Gladio said, tapping his arm and immediately wishing he hadn’t. The pain wasn’t as intense or  _ sharp _ as it had been under the needle, no way, but the ache was deep like a burn, horrible and slow to fade.

 

‘A gory affair?’ Ignis asked.

 

It occured to Gladio with a pang that perhaps he was just as reluctant to leave the car, too.

 

‘More like gross, to be honest,’

 

Ignis smiled, nodding. ‘Is it very sore?’

 

‘Oh, hell yeah,’

 

‘It will be worth it, though,’ Ignis said. He’d lowered his voice since the engine stopped and Gladio hung on his every word. ‘but you know I have to ask,’

 

‘Why a bird?’ Gladio smirked.

 

Ignis gestured. ‘I… yes,’

 

It was a simple enough question, but all the answers seemed so incredibly trite now Gladio carded through them. He’d always known he’d wanted this and wanted it big, but the protection and oversight and strength - it didn’t seem like enough. Gladio made a low noise, uncertain how to carry on.

 

‘I mean, it’s all symbolic, right? The moving freely and striking quickly thing, yeah, that… that’s always been neat to me,’  _ Neat. Oh my god.  _ Gladio frowned. ‘Plus, y’know, they’re kind of delicate? But we dig ‘em for being these agile killers, and… I mean, my Dad had this thing above the fire with a bird kind of like this on it, a crest I think? I dunno. I swear this sounded way better in my head all these years,’

 

Ignis only laughed lightly and Gladio was swept up in another rush of affection for the man. He’d listened without making a wiseass comment (like Prompto or Iris: “ _ You just want an excuse to take your shirt off, _ ”), and Gladio liked to think he  _ got it _ despite the babble.

 

‘It’ll be handsome when it’s finished,’ he said.

 

‘It better be,’ Gladio laughed, and well, if not because he was paying enough for it then because his butt when numb as hell on that seat in the parlour. Ignis nodded, and Gladio sobered when he remembered the heaviness of his thoughts and the fact that he was probably going to drive home and worry himself over the edge. A goodbye was coming soon. He had to be quick… and a little bit brave.

 

Gladio reached for Ignis’ hand and held his gaze. Ignis looked back, open and surprised, and he was so incredibly  _ pretty _ that all of Gladio’s words dissolved in his eyes.

 

He pushed away thoughts of kissing him gently and slow and- _ ugh. _ No. Gladio tried again to push away thoughts of kissing him at all.

 

Ignis squeezed his hand. ‘Gladiolus?’

 

Gladio bowed his head to conceal a shiver and let out a breath of laughter. ‘There you go again with that,’

 

‘Oh, sorry,’

 

‘No, hey,’ Gladio squeezed back, noting the softness of Ignis’ skin now there were no gloves in the way. ‘I was mostly joking about the ass kicking thing, but if you need anything you can call me, alright? Anytime. Even if it’s just… I don’t know, for a distraction,’

 

Ignis blinked. ‘Thank you,’ he said, in a voice barely more than a whisper.

 

‘You got it,’

 

Gladio set his other hand on top of Ignis’, holding his gaze fiercely. This time, Ignis didn’t look away.

  
  
  


Ignoring the little mountain of damp flannels and towels slick with old ink and grime, Gladio left the bathroom and sank heavily on his bed. Nap now or stick it out for an early night in a couple hours time? Gladio wrestled with the choices but it was a foregone conclusion. The pillows were warm and he was  _ beat _ .

 

He’d wanted to shower and really take his time, but nope, his artist told him to avoid it for a day or two so the ink could settle into his skin. Red, sore skin. Maybe it was for the best. Recently he’d been way too easily distracted in the shower. He’d start to think of  _ Ignis _ and his light touch and hitching breath… but Gladio staunchly refused to act on any of it. Ever. It felt like a betrayal. He couldn’t - not when Ignis seemed to be coming around to how Gladio felt for him.

 

Still, there were other aches in his body besides his arm.

 

Gladio sat up quickly in the hopes of dislodging that slippery line of thought and yawned, running a hand through his hair.

 

His eyes landed on his phone on the bedside table, but there were no new messages waiting for him when he checked it. Iris wasn’t pestering him - she only did if she wanted something or if too long went without them talking, and Prompto was probably ten hours deep in a video game that’d replaced reality for him. Gladio flicked through his contacts without a reason, riding the drowsy call to sleep, and lingered on  _ Ignis _ .

 

_ I hope he’s asleep, too,  _ Gladio thought, despite how it was barely six in the evening.

 

Further in the list Gladio froze.  _ Noctis. _

 

An idea struck him square and suddenly like a lance of lightning. It was probably a  _ bad _ idea, but… if it worked out it would be a better present than the wallet he had tucked away in the bottom drawer beside the bed.

 

Gladio didn’t give himself time to think. He hit Noctis’ name and held the phone to his ear, listening idly to it ring out… and ring out again, and again. Frowning, Gladio made himself comfy on the bed, half-prone and propped up at the headboard. His room was pretty sparse, but he really only used it for sleeping in - the walls were clean and grey, the furniture dark, cluttered with a few empty bottles and a dusty diploma on the wall. None of it reflected  _ him _ .

 

Finally, after what felt like an age, Noctis answered.

 

‘Hello?’

 

‘Hey, it’s Gladio,’

 

‘Okay…’

 

‘You got a sec?’

 

‘Yup.’

 

Gladio rolled his eyes. The kid still sounded half asleep, but he figured it might actually work in his favour. ‘It’s about your dad’s company. The concert one?’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

‘You know the director, right?’

 

‘Uh, I think so? He’s tall with no hair?’

 

‘I dunno, I never met the guy,’

 

‘Oh,’

 

‘Well whatever, look, I need you to ask your dad to have a word with him or something,’ Gladio said, closing his eyes and getting it out in one go. His heart thumped; maybe he should’ve thought this through. It was different when ideas started reaching other people rather than rattling around inside his own head.

 

Sure enough, Noctis sounded less than enthused. ‘Why...?’

 

Gladio took a moment to consider that. He didn’t wanna drop Ignis in it or make him out to be a snitch, but fuck, asking him to pull two new compositions out of his ass was ridiculous. The man was already beyond stressed, not to mention the best damn asset the Company had. Offering Ignis another silent apology, Gladio pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

‘He’s pushing Ignis to write stuff in a tiny timeframe. We’re talking deadlines and stuff, saying his place counts on it. It’s shady - your dad’s gotta tell him to back off or else he might end up missing a pianist, nevermind whatever new songs he wants. You following?’

 

‘Yeah, I think so?’

 

‘And?’

 

‘And you know my dad doesn’t really have anything to do with the day to day of the company, right?’

 

Gladio did  _ not _ know that. ‘It’s the Royal company,’ he said, blankly.

 

‘It’s just a monetary thing,’

 

_ Oh, fuck _ . 

 

‘Well, I mean… the director would still ease off if the  _ King _ spoke to him, right? Can’t you try and ask him anyway?’

 

‘Why?’

 

Gladio felt himself bristle. ‘Why.’

 

‘Yeah, you’re pretty hung up on this.’ Noctis said, and sounded like he’d laid back down.

 

‘For Ignis, maybe?’

 

‘So why isn’t Ignis calling me?’

 

‘You know damn well why,’ Gladio rebutted, not at all liking where this was going.

 

‘Hmm.’

 

A bolt of contention leapt into life inside him like a flickering flame, but Gladio knew he had to quash it and let go of his irritation - he was trying to make a deal here. He could be pissed about it when all was said and done.  _ When Ignis wasn’t about to snap. _

 

‘So you don’t wanna help him? He is your friend, though. Like one of your oldest ones, yeah?’

 

‘Yeah, he is.’ Noctis replied with a note of defensiveness in his voice. Accusatory, even, and Gladio briefly wondered if he’d perhaps not chosen the best tactic. ‘And he’s one of your new ones, isn’t he?’

 

Gladio scoffed and once again held back the urge to burn up the question with a blistering answer. He didn’t wanna play games, and Noctis meant something to Ignis besides, so it wouldn’t do to send him whining and saying Gladio had chewed him out over the phone.

 

‘Hey,’ he started, lowering his voice as though there was anyone who could overhear. ‘look, I do care for him a lot,’

 

Noctis said nothing. There was movement on the line and the  _ swish _ of a duvet being adjusted. Gladio felt a tug behind his eyes, too; the whole napping thing had never seemed better than it did right now.

 

‘I’ll see, alright? No promises.’

 

Gladio let out a sigh of relief. He sank back into the pillows and draped his forearm across his eyes, blotting out the lamplight and indistinct shadows on the ceiling.

 

‘Yeah? Alright, awesome. Thanks.’

 

Noctis huffed, but there was no real malice in it.

 

‘Yeah.’ he said. ‘We better keep this between us though. He's gonna flip when he finds out.’

 

Something cold and sharp grabbed Gladio from the inside out.  _ He is? _ How could he not have thought of that…  _ dammit _ , especially after all Iris had said. His hands felt cold and clammy but the die were already cast -  Gladio had to hope that some good came out of the gamble.

 

With a note to himself not to do anything spontaneous ever again, Gladio cleared his throat.

 

‘Uh, yeah. Let’s.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof sorry for the wait there,, i hope everyones new year rang in alright! ive had some pretty shitty stuff happening irl in my personal life , and though it's not completely Over i should be back to regular updates from now on
> 
> thank you for reading as always!


	6. Chapter 6

Prompto needed five minutes outside the shop in the light snowfall to psych himself up. He marched on the spot in an old battered leather coat whilst Noctis watched over the top of the scarf he was bundled in. Gladio didn’t have the heart to tease the kid - not even a little bit this time. Getting a body mod was the sorta thing that crept up on you all at once at the last second, and, well, this  _ was _ the last second.

 

Eventually, Prompto clapped his hands together and led them into the store, jumping halfway across the waiting room when the chime above the door rang out. Gladio followed him with a smirk, ushering Noctis forward and nodding to the familiar face behind the counter.

 

‘How’s it going, Dave?’

 

Dave peered at Gladio and his charges; Prompto was looking around with a wide-eyed curiosity, and Noctis stayed close to Gladio’s side.

 

‘Slowly. Didn’t expect you back so soon.’ Dave said, as solemn as ever.

 

‘Oh, no way in hell you’re getting me back in that chair - I still can’t feel my ass,’

 

Prompto danced over and swatted at his arm, grinning.

 

‘Aw! Poor tough guy!’

 

Gladio didn’t respond save to huff slightly. He made a mental note to revisit the mark in ten minutes or so when Prompto saw the needle.

 

‘What brings all of you in?’ Dave asked.

 

‘These two reckon they want piercings,’ Gladio jabbed a thumb between Prompto and Noctis. ‘and I thought you might be the guy to talk ‘em through it.’  _ Or out of it, _ he thought privately, knowing any attempt  _ he _ made to do so would only make them wanna do it all the more.

 

Dave turned his attention to Prompto. ‘Oh, yeah? What sort of thing are you after?’

 

‘A nose piercing,’ Prompto said right away, stepping forward and helpfully pointing. ‘small but shiny, you know?’

 

Dave grunted. He looked at Noctis. ‘And you?’

 

Noctis looked at Prompto.

 

‘Uh…’

 

‘This one’s still thinking about it,’ Gladio supplied when he saw the wheels spinning behind Noctis’ eyes. The kid shot him a grateful (and grudging) glance before Prompto laughed and wagged a finger.

 

‘He’s squeamish, he means,’

 

Noctis scowled but didn’t dispute the fact. He looked like he was done with this whole trip already, and Gladio couldn’t entirely blame him - it’d been one of Prompto’s whirlwind ideas, something  _ fun _ to do on an otherwise empty Saturday afternoon. Gladio hadn’t at all liked the idea of taking the kids for their first session in the chair, but liked the idea of them going alone even less.

 

Dave clicked his tongue, and shared a knowing look with him.

 

He straightened and hopped off the stool to unlock the cabinet under the counter, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a tray of small silver studs set in foam. Dave turned it round to Prompto, who gawped, and even Noctis rose up on his toes to peep at them.

 

Gladio saw it in his eyes though; not even the shiniest stud was gonna swing it for him. He came to lean on the counter too, thinking to himself that it was probably a good thing Noctis was backing out.  _ Ignis would probably kick my ass… not to mention the King. _

 

But hey, he figured it was one less thing Noctis would bug Ignis about.

 

‘So I could have any of these?’ Prompto pointed at the tray.

 

‘Sure, some of them are more expensive than others, but that’s all body grade metal in there, every piece,’ Dave started, but upon seeing Prompto’s less than convincing slow-nod he rapped his knuckles against the counter and went on. ‘as in, your nose won’t swell up or fall off,’

 

‘Oh! That’s… that’s good,’ Prompto chimed, with a slightly stiff smile. ‘but, uh, can that happen?’

 

Dave blinked, and Gladio had to turn away to disguise another smirk.

 

‘You know what goes into this?’

 

‘Needles, right?’ Prompto answered hopefully.

 

‘Mmm. But you gotta take care of it all. I don’t want you coming in here a week from now hollering about having an infection or whatnot. I got a business to run.’

 

‘Oh, uh, sure, I mean… you’ll tell me how, right?’

 

Finally, Dave relented. He smiled a sliver of a smile and nodded, and the effect was like a lit match to gasoline for Prompto. His beam flickered back onto his face and he looked sidelong to Gladio. Gladio rolled his eyes, fondly, and directed his attention back to the tray.

 

‘You better pick something,’

 

‘Oh! Yeah, lemme see,’

 

‘Come through when you’re ready,’ said Dave. ‘the two of you are welcome back here too. Like I said, it’s a slow day,’ he paused, looked at Gladio, and smirked again. ‘just mind you don’t take up too much space,’

 

‘Ouch,’ Gladio said flatly, watching Dave retreat behind the bead curtain that separated the lobby from the studio. Outside, the snow was coming down in thickets of white - it didn’t feel like a Saturday at all.

 

Prompto was chewing his lip, and Noctis had relaxed now it was the three of them alone again, looking more closely at the tray.

 

‘You still set on this?’ Gladio asked, keeping his voice level. There was a delicate way to do this, and if he put himself in Ignis’ theoretical position he could almost hear his words, advocating for the gentler, but insistent, path. ‘It’s no big deal if you wanna put it off for another day or whatever. Nobody’s gonna-’

 

‘This one, I think,’

 

Prompto plucked out a simple silver stud with a white gem.

 

Gladio tapered off his sentence with a sigh.

 

‘You want us to come though?’ he asked.

 

Prompto looked quickly to Noctis again, and something smaller and private passed between them in a fraction of a second. He mustered a smile and shook his head, clasping his fingers around the stud in the palm of his hand.

 

‘I’m good - besides, you said it doesn’t take long, right?’

 

‘Yeah, sort of, just a pinch and you’re done,’

 

‘I can handle that,’ Prompto grinned, giving Noctis’ shoulder a bump.

 

‘Let us know when you’re done?’ Noctis asked.

 

‘Sure,’

 

‘Alright,’ Noctis straightened. ‘good luck, man,’

 

‘Thanks, dude,’

 

Prompto dashed through the bead curtain. Gladio cleared his throat in the wake of an exchange he felt he shouldn’t have been privy to, and, horribly, realised that things were gonna get a dozen times more awkward real quick.

 

He’d never been alone with Noctis before.

 

Noctis shivered in his jacket, keeping his eyes fixed on the tray on the counter… and seemed like he was realising it, too.

 

_ Well. _ Gladio turned, rubbing at his jaw, and made for the ratty couch in the corner.

 

‘Might as well sit,’ he said, remembering that Noctis liked to do that. To sit. And sleep.

 

_ And not eat anything that came outta the ground or ever saw the sun. _

 

Noctis agreed with a hum, taking a seat a polite amount of space away. He clasped his hands together and sighed, looking around at the templates on the walls and the old busted neon signs, but Gladio couldn’t read what he thought about any of it. There was something clouded in his expression and the way he talked from time to time, below the surface, and he wondered how Ignis-

 

_ Oh. _

 

That was it - the one person they had in common.

 

Gladio shifted his weight, feeling like he was taking up too much space after all. Noctis had his own shit to deal with, but a part of Gladio knew that he  _ knew _ something was happening between him and Ignis. It helped that it wasn’t official or anything, but still.

 

‘So, uh,’ Gladio started, more to pull himself out of his own head. ‘were you gonna get your nose done, too?’

 

‘Oh, no. I dunno,’ he shrugged. ‘Prompto had this concrete idea for what he was gonna get months ago and I was mostly like, yeah, it’d be cool in theory, you know?’

 

‘Mmm,’

 

‘I wasn’t gonna get one just for the sake of it,’

 

‘Sensible,’ Gladio said, pleasantly surprised. He rubbed a thumb along his jaw with a note to shave before his… other plans later in the evening.  _ Probably could do with showering too.  _ ‘didn’t expect that outta you,’

 

‘I know.’ Noctis said, with a fixed glance that was brief but pointed. It wasn’t the first time Gladio had picked up on it - this  _ thing _ Noctis did that went beyond just being a brat, pushing him, but it was too dangerous to bring attention to.

 

For Ignis’ sake, and the sake of his peace of mind.

 

Gladio shrugged. ‘You’re young.’

 

‘Yeah, but I do have some sensible influences in my life,’

 

‘I know,’ echoed Gladio with a half-smile. ‘so, not your nose, then?’

 

Noctis held his stare for a moment longer, then nodded to himself, relenting a little. ‘I mean, if I  _ had _ to? I’d go with my eyebrow, or like, a helix,’

 

‘Huh. Thought you’d be more into lip stuff,’

 

Noctis gingerly pressed the tips of his fingers to his bottom lip. ‘So, you don’t have any, right?’

 

‘What?’

 

Noctis tilted his head. ‘Piercings,’

 

‘Oh,’ Gladio looked away, twining his fingers together and mulling over how best to go about this.  _ If I tell him and he tells Ignis and weirds him out somehow, man, I don’t know- _

 

‘Dude,’ Noctis smirked. ‘don’t answer that; you’re taking way too long,’

 

‘Fine with me, probably too much for you to handle, anyway,’

 

The moment lingered lightly between them, but the  _ waiting _ and the slow drudge of the commuters outside in snow coats and slow-moving cars stole all the momentum. Noctis sighed and balled up in the couch’s corner, and Gladio leaned forward, tapping his foot and trying to recognise the song playing on the radio in the other room.

 

Fifteen more minutes passed before Dave parted the bead curtain and gestured to them.

 

‘All done - come check it out,’

 

Noctis rose easily to his feet, scampering under Dave’s arm and into the studio with a curiosity that was, admittedly, kind of endearing. Dave caught Gladio wincing when he stood, and the two of them went together to the backroom.

 

‘Still feeling it?’ Dave asked.

 

Gladio nodded, a wry smile curling his lips as he looked at Prompto beaming at his reflection in a little mirror. ‘I must be getting old,’

 

‘If you’re old, then I don’t want to know what that makes me,’

 

Gladio gave a bark of laughter, turning his attention to Prompto again, who seemed to have taken the needle like a trooper - there were no red eyes or anything. He was pointing at the stud in his nose, chattering to Noctis, who looked a touch awed.  _ Kids _ , thought Gladio to himself, but not unfondly.

 

The studio space was bigger and airier than the lobby - black walls and a tiled floor, with a half a dozen little cubbies and leather chairs. Two of them were occupied, and the metallic  _ buzz _ of the tattoo guns went through Gladio like a knife through butter.

 

In a good way.

 

He shivered, coming to inspect Prompto’s new stone for himself.

 

‘How’d you like it?’ he asked. ‘Gotta say, it suits you,’

 

‘Yeah? It’s awesome, thanks Dave,’ Prompto beamed. Dave waved a hand, stripping off the latex gloves a finger at a time.

 

‘Sure thing. I’m surprised you didn’t back out,’

 

‘Aw, me?’ Prompto tilted his head, smirking despite giving Noctis a quick glance.

 

Noctis, fortunately, was still quite distracted.

 

‘You think you’ll get more?’

 

‘Um,’ Prompto looked from Gladio to Dave, suddenly gone sheepish and red in the cheeks. Gladio bit back a knowing smile - the end result was usually worth the hassle, but that didn’t always inspire you to jump right back in the chair. ‘yeah, maybe not like right away? I have to see how this one heals and stuff,’

 

‘Yeah, I get that. It does look neat though,’

 

Prompto gave Noctis’ shoulder a pretend jab.

 

Feeling like he should be looking at anything other than the oh so tender smiles the two were sharing, Gladio looked to Dave… who was looking at him.

 

‘How are you healing up, Gladio? Nice and clean?’

 

‘You know it. Wanna see?’

 

‘Sure,’ said Dave, folding his arms and making no move towards the staff room or the lobby.

 

Gladio waited a beat and glanced around the studio. The folks in the chairs were way too involved in their own tattoos, and if they weren’t, then hey, maybe a distraction would help. Gladio shucked off his coat and slipped his arm out of his shirt, pushing it over his shoulder. The redness was gone now, the lines crisp and black, and Dave gave a hum of approval.

 

‘Nice. You excited for more?’

 

‘Excited for it to be done, more like,’

 

‘You still need more outlines?’ Prompto asked from the chair, looking with open awe.

 

‘Nah, we’re onto shading now,’ Gladio said, raising a brow when Noctis’ eyes caught on his chest - his brow furrowed, presumably finding the answer to his earlier question.

 

‘Yup,’ Dave said. ‘and it’s gonna sting like a you-know-what,’

 

‘What, you’re not gonna go gentle on me?’

 

Dave laughed rather too dryly for Gladio’s liking. ‘Not a chance,’

 

‘Has Ignis seen?’

 

Prompto was waggling his eyebrows when Gladio whipped around to gawk at him.

 

‘I’ve told him about it, he knows it’s there.’

 

‘Oh, come on! That’s so not the same as showing it to him,’

 

Horribly, Gladio was struck with a daydream of doing  _ just that _ , and even as it turned his stomach to butterflies and his legs to lead, he saw Prompto rifling around in his pocket for what could only be his phone. Dave was shaking his head, turning his back to wash his hands again, and Noctis smiled into the palm of his hand, resting on the edge of Prompto’s chair.

 

Prompto grinned. Pointed the phone at him.

 

Before Gladio could tug his shirt back down or even question if he wanted to, he heard the  _ click _ and a cackle. Two taps and Prompto was smug as anything, setting his phone back on his lap and reclining.

 

‘You can thank me later,’ he grinned.

 

_ Did he? _

 

The tension snapped like an elastic.  _ He did. _

 

Gladio’s heavy limbs burned up with the rest of him.

 

He left the two of them to laugh together with a couple of choice curses, grabbing his coat and rushing back into the lobby through the stupid bead curtain that clung to him. He felt his heart like a hammer in the hollow of his chest, each beat rattling around, rattling his brain as he realised that  _ oh my god _ this was all real.

 

Prompto had sent a goddamn… almost  _ nude _ of him to Ignis. On a Saturday afternoon. Hours before they were supposed to meet for a nice casual hangout.

 

Gladio groaned and sank back onto the sofa, fumbling for his own phone without a clear thought on what the hell he was gonna do, only that he needed to do  _ something _ to head this off. Iris’ words came to him again as he navigated to his messages, lacing in a cold whip of fear through his body.

 

_ Maybe he won’t get the message. Maybe he’s busy, or maybe I can tell him Prompto’s been hacked or whatever and not to open any messages he sends for now, or- _

 

Everything came shuddering to a sudden stop when he saw Ignis was typing. Gladio cursed again and stood, paced across the lobby, paced back, back again, then came to lean on the glass counter with his phone on the surface and his head in his hands, watching the three dots.

 

The vibration rattled the whole shop. Gladio tapped the screen back to brightness.

 

_ “Good progress.” _

 

Gladio let out a little choked sound. Good progress. 

 

Sure. He rubbed his eyes, wondering why the hell this day had to go and pull the rug out from under him like this.  _ I guess he isn’t mad, though? _ Surely if he was he wouldn’t have replied… like that. Or so quickly. Or at all. Gladio blinked himself back into the lobby and tapped out a reply one slow letter at a time.

 

_ “hey, thanks. and sorry, prompto thinks he’s funny. i didn’t plan this.” _

 

Gladio hit send and put the phone back down, out of his hands, but Ignis was already typing a reply before the screen dimmed.

 

_ “I’m not complaining.” _

 

That was definitely positive, right? That was a good message. That was…

 

Gladio exhaled through his nose and picked the phone back up. He felt poised on a knife’s edge between a smile and something still more fearful - this thing between him and Ignis was new, so new that it might not even be a  _ thing _ yet. The next message came slower than the first. Gladio sent it, keeping the phone in his hand this time, biting his thumb.

 

_ “then i’ll keep you updated?” _

 

_ “Certainly. I’m happy to help if I can.” _

 

Gladio closed his eyes, letting himself smile at last. Trust Ignis to take something so messed up and turn it to gold and honey and an offer to  _ help _ . Gladio heard the buzz of the tattoo guns again, quieter out here, blended with the drone of traffic.

 

_ Happy to help _ .

 

Maybe it didn’t go deeper than passing him cream, but if it did… if Ignis had thought about touching him, about his body, imagining it under his hands…

 

Gladio wanted to see him. He wanted to still his own mind and get out of this place.

 

The screen lit up again with a startling buzz.

 

_ “Oh. Do not let Noctis pierce his face, Gladiolus.” _

 

Gladio bowed his head again, laughing under his breath.

 

*                     *                     *

 

‘So, yeah. I promise I didn’t ask him to send it,’

 

Ignis just smiled, impossibly pretty even under fluorescent strip lighting.

 

‘I believed you the first time you told me,’ he said, and Gladio breathed out a sigh of relief and seemed to take in their surroundings properly for the first time.

 

The supermarket was busy tonight; maybe there was a game on, but he and Ignis went slowly side by side through the aisles as though they were the only two.

 

‘Good. I was worried you were gonna think I was some kind of sleazeball,’

 

‘Rest assured, I don’t,’

 

Ignis gave him another firm look, tempered with that same politely puzzled smile, and Gladio lost himself in it again for a heartbeat. The weight of the day changed and lessened, and when he looked away he rolled his shoulders and picked up his head - the groceries weren’t gonna buy themselves, after all.

 

Noctis had asked them to fetch a “couple” things, but what a prince considered a couple and what a guy like Gladio did were two different things. Ignis swapped the already half-full basket from arm to arm, refusing each time Gladio offered to take it off his hands. Mostly, they walked in silence, aside from when Gladio would comment on how good a meal looked and get a raised brow and a “ _ Hmm, but have you ever tried to make it yourself?” _ for his trouble.

 

The answer was always  _ no _ . Ignis would tut, and Gladio would feel himself falling deeper.

 

Ignis’ company was a bright and soothing thing, and a perfect end to a bizarre day. Though, Gladio had hoped to be more useful.

 

So when Ignis dropped his shopping list, Gladio almost checked an end stall rushing to pick it up.

 

‘Can I hold this for you at least?’ he asked, smoothing it out.

 

Ignis glanced over his shoulder. ‘I don’t know, your shoulder looked a little sore, still,’

 

Gladio was stunned to silence and a small, stupefied smile.

 

‘I think I can manage,’

 

‘If you say so,’ Ignis said, waiting for Gladio to fall back in step and adjusting the weight of the basket. ‘what’s next?’

 

Gladio checked. Ignis’ handwriting was just as he’d imagined it’d be; a neat cursive script, though with more flourishes than he’d expected - how he put a pen to paper seemed to Gladio to mimic how he set his hands to the piano, and the thought went through him warmly, so much so that he had to reread what he’d glossed over.

 

‘Uh, lemme see. Peaches? Those are for you, right?’

 

Ignis shook his head. ‘For Noctis,’

 

‘You know peaches are a fruit?’

 

Ignis laughed. ‘I do, but I’m hoping I can disguise them, or otherwise make them more palatable,’

 

‘Oh, yeah, like hide it in his food? Like you do with cats to get ‘em to take their medicine?’

 

‘Exactly so,’

 

Gladio had his doubts about this master plan, but hey, he liked peaches - he’d rehome them if Noctis threw a fit. He told Ignis so and got another smile out of him. “ _ Really?” _ Gladio had nodded, and though Ignis only went on walking with a thoughtful expression, he had to wonder what sort of stuff he’d get for himself if they weren’t here doing Noctis’ legwork.

 

Not that he could complain. They didn’t rush, and it was all so domestic that Gladio was wary of saying too much and shattering it. Ignis talked back with him though, and piece by piece Gladio began to put a picture of him together - the  _ him _ that existed off the stage.

 

They checked off the list, winding down the frozen section and agreeing that two pizzas were really more than enough - no need for the two packs of mini ones. Noctis might pout, but Ignis claimed to be used to it… and claimed to be glad that he hadn’t come back from the tattoo shop today with snakebites.

 

‘Would his dad flip?’ Gladio asked.

 

Ignis hummed. ‘Flip, no. More likely begin to wonder on the perils of his son’s impulsiveness, and if it were to grow,’

 

‘Eesh, yeah,’ Gladio agreed, looking longingly at a frozen meal; a roast dinner with the works, all in one little box.

 

Ignis caught him, because of course he did. ‘They’re charging for convenience,’ he started. ‘it’d cost half the price and taste twice as good if you made it from scratch,’

 

‘Believe me, if  _ I _ made it from scratch, it wouldn’t,’

 

‘You’ll have to learn then,’ Ignis said, meeting his eyes.

 

‘I guess so. But hey, aren’t you gonna pick up some stuff for yourself?’

 

Ignis was already moving towards the checkouts. ‘Myself?’

 

‘Yeah, y’know, I know you can’t be living outta the hotel minibar,’

 

‘True,’ Ignis ceded with a huff. ‘but no, I’ll manage a little longer,’

 

Privately thinking that Ignis should aim for more than just  _ managing _ , Gladio nodded and dropped the subject, looking back to the list and declaring with a grin that they’d gotten everything - no second circuit needed. Ignis seemed relieved, shifting the basket from hand to hand again, and as he did so Gladio saw the red lines pressed into his palms.

 

Enough was enough, he decided with a grumble; it wouldn’t do to have such pretty hands treated so roughly. He took the basket himself ( _ “Hey, no, this is only fair,” _ ) and pushed the little burst of courage as far as it would go, lacing his free hand with Ignis’, as though his touch could smooth away the indents in his palm.

 

Ignis looked to him with his mouth agape, but he didn’t pull away. Gladio raised a brow, heart thumping.

 

‘Ready to go?’

 

‘I… yes,’

  
  
  


They loaded Ignis’ boot with the shopping, shivering all the while. The snow had long since stopped and faded to an icy mulch underfoot, but the temperature hadn’t recovered - their breath plumed out white and shuddery, and Gladio stood close, shielding Ignis from the wind whilst he fumbled in his pockets for the keys.

 

He knew he was staring. Ignis’ downcast glance accentuated his lashes and the pretty shadow they cast across the top of his cheeks, and the amber light, harsh as it was, seemed to linger in all the right places to make him seem oddly unearthly despite all the evidence to the contrary. Gladio heard him breathing and muttering to himself, he saw how his fingers were rifling through the keychain.

 

Had tonight been too much about  _ them _ ? It was hard to tell. Iris would know of course, and either squawk or coo when Gladio went back and told her about it over a hot drink and something shitty on TV.

 

But here, now, it was impossible to say where they stood… aside from  _ close _ , that is.

 

Ignis found the key with a little  _ a ha! _ , then frozen when he met Gladio’s eyes.

 

‘What is it?’ he asked, quieter in the cold.

 

Gladio shook his head. ‘Nothing, just… c’mere,’

 

He moved slowly, sliding one arm around Ignis’ waist, then another, and smiling with a sigh when it all seemed to click into place. Ignis might have said something too quiet to hear. He let Gladio pull him into his arms to his chest, and for a moment they were warm again.

 

‘Thanks,’ said Gladio, resting his chin on Ignis’ crown.

 

‘What for?’

 

‘Today was… weird,’ he admitted, though it barely felt like  _ one _ day at all. ‘this made it better,’

 

‘Ah. Then I’m glad.’

 

Ignis gave Gladio’s back two light  _ pats _ .

 

‘I should actually be thanking  _ you _ ,’ he started, looking to the ground between them, back up, to Gladio’s chest before meeting his eyes. ‘it wasn’t my intention to use you to transport the shopping to and fro,’

 

‘I wouldn’t mind if it was,’ Gladio teased.

 

‘Would you rather I drop you off at home now? Or after?’

 

Gladio didn’t have to think about it. Ignis hadn’t stepped away, and his stare was sure and steady when it finally connected again with his.

 

‘After.’

 

‘Alright,’ Ignis closed his fingers more tightly around the key, taking a moment to exhale before speaking. Gladio’s eyes flitted down to watch his chest rise and fall. ‘well, we’d best be off. Noctis won’t wait for his food forever,’

 

Gladio laughed, equal parts relief and honey-warm joy. ‘No kidding, yeah, let’s… let’s go,’

  
  
  


Noctis was on the doorstep dancing from foot to foot in a t-shirt when Ignis and Gladio pulled up. Immediately, he asked about the number of pizzas and deflated when Ignis informed him that there weren’t any mini ones.  _ Why _ , he asked.  _ Because you have two full size ones, Noctis,  _ Ignis answered. And Gladio brought the bags over with a scoff.

 

The wind whipped at the bags when Gladio set them down, and Ignis took them two at a time through to the kitchen, leaving Gladio to poke Noctis’ bicep.

 

‘You wouldn’t be so cold if you weren’t such a stick,’ he said.

 

Noctis frowned. ‘Says the guy not bringing me all the food I asked for,’

 

‘Shit, yeah. You might starve,’ Gladio looked pointedly at the five remaining bags at their feet.

 

Noctis rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his body, hopping again, this way and that. ‘Oh, hey?’

 

‘Yeah?’

 

‘Remember the thing you asked me to do? For Specs? Well, I talked to my d-’

 

Gladio looked at him with a start; Ignis rounded the corner. He held up a hand and shushed Noctis with a pointed  _ look _ . It did the trick… kinda. Noctis’ mouth snapped shut with a click and Ignis came to join them, glancing from one to the other.

 

‘Everything alright?’

 

Noctis nodded.

 

‘Yeah,’ Gladio added, flashing a smile and feeling suddenly, horribly, guilty when Ignis smiled back. ‘you need any help putting this stuff away?’

 

Ignis looked between them once more. He adjusted his glasses whilst Gladio watched, hardly daring to breathe. It was too late to go back on the plan now, especially if Noctis had mentioned it to Regis, but then it shouldn’t be making him feel like this, should it?  _ Sour _ , after such a sugary end to the night.

 

He’d feel Ignis in his arms still ‘til the next time, he knew, and hoped it would be soon.

 

_ Or at all. _

 

Ignis gave a nod.

 

‘Oh, certainly. I’d appreciate the help.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! thank you for reading as always,,, here's a big chapter to make up for another long wait... ugh im very sorry!
> 
> i caught this evil flu thing everyone's been getting so that's been fun, and also today i had to travel across the country to the capital (5 hours on a train...... dies) for a job interview i have tomorrow morning, UGH so hopefully that explains the delay. the next few chapters will pick up pretty quickly.. i had some time to revamp the plot planned from hereon out, and i feel a lot better about it!
> 
> now if i can stop sneezing that would be great.........


	7. Chapter 7

Ignis held his hands over the piano.

 

There was nobody around to watch him, but he still pulled away with a gasping breath like a man breaking the water’s surface, leaving him with a ringing  _ silence _ in his ears and a blurry field of vision.

 

_ Focus _ . Ignis exhaled, sat straight, and tried to ground himself. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to use the hour before rehearsals began - he’d hoped the juxtaposition of privacy on a professional stage would stir something in him, but as it was he found himself missing the spotlights.

 

It was all part of the show for Ignis. A weight of expectation and the bright lights that buffered it; he always prefered to be heard rather than seen. And even if the expectation came from himself tonight it was still there - and the lights weren’t. Ignis felt oddly small.

 

He looked down at the bed of piano keys and ran his fingers lightly across the tops of them, some more worn than others. Even so, the piano was a far cry from the secondhand keyboard he’d grown up with.

 

He’d played the thing until it broke - where had that spark gone? Ignis sighed again, remembering a small bedroom and an awful lot of notepads with the beginnings of songs in them, chords and diagrams, things to remember and things that didn’t work. The internet hadn’t been a thing back then, and he recalled listening to songs on a walkman five seconds at a time, trying to catch the melody and put it to paper.

 

Twenty years had passed since then, full of training and touring, so how was it now that he couldn’t draw on it for anything? Not even a  _ note _ of inspiration.

 

One last push was all he needed to finish the last overdue song. Naturally, it was determined to wring him out to dry first.

 

So, when the door to the foyer swung open and let in a stripe of light and the  _ buzz _ of voices, Ignis couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed. He slumped and exhaled a weighted breath, and though he’d expected to see a troupe of violinists (or worse, the director), he saw Gladio instead.

 

Ignis blinked, sat up and stared.

 

Gladio lifted a hand, making his way from the door towards the stage.

 

‘Hey,’ he called out. The empty arena picked up his voice and echoed it around, wall to wall.

 

‘Gladio?’ Ignis asked, clamping a hand around his forearm as though he could stop the goosebumps.

 

‘Fancy seeing you here,’

 

Ignis tightened his hold. ‘Is everything alright?’ he asked, wincing when he heard himself - too loud. The same thing was happening in his chest where his heart had suddenly remembered it was alive, thudding. Gladio only smiled, passing through the aisles towards him.

 

He was all in black today. It suited him, Ignis thought, shifting on the piano stool, unable to look anywhere else.

 

‘That was gonna be my line,’ Gladio said. ‘I tried calling but I didn’t get through. So, uh, just a heads up, don’t worry about the missed calls next time you look, it’s my number,’

 

Ignis nodded, but he’d added Gladio to his contacts weeks ago.

 

He scooted aside on the stool when Gladio stepped on stage to join him at the piano. They shared a smile before Gladio sat, careful not to take up too much room, Ignis noticed, but he didn’t mind at all. The fuzzy feeling was comfortable, and didn’t need fretting over anymore - he’d long since come to terms with the fact that Gladio’s presence itself was enough to cheer him. Their closeness now was a bonus, of course, and Ignis adjusted his glasses. Gladio was wearing a familiar cologne, he was warm, he…

 

_ Focus, again. _

 

‘So, you’re okay?’ Gladio asked.

 

‘I can’t complain,’

 

‘I’m sure you could.’ Gladio teased, nudging Ignis a little. Ignis bowed his head to laugh briefly, and when he looked again Gladio’s smile had tempered, too - he fixed him with a firm gaze, gold-flecked and gentle. ‘How come you’re sat here on your own?’

 

‘I thought I might catch some inspiration.’ Ignis answered blankly. He looked from Gladio to the piano and felt him shift. All of Ignis’ awareness settled in the places their bodies touched and the timbre of Gladio’s voice.

 

_ On your own. _ He hadn’t thought of it that way, not ‘til now. Ignis could hear Gladio breathing, and when he looked up to him again Gladio blinked and smiled, then nodded his head at the piano.

 

‘Any luck?’

 

‘I can’t find it,’ Ignis said. ‘the last piece,’

 

‘The director’s still pressing you for that?’

 

Ignis nodded, looking away from Gladio then when he saw the flicker in his eyes. He was always forthright with his emotions - whether he meant to be or not, but Ignis wasn’t sure if he deserved the sympathy he saw.  _ I had plenty of time _ , he chided himself, even as he heard Gladio murmur under his breath, even as he felt his arm slip loosely around his waist.

 

‘I’m trying,’ Ignis said, quietly.

 

‘Hey, I know you are,’ Gladio whispered back, giving him a light squeeze. Ignis looked up with a start. Gladio gaped and cleared his throat, and Ignis noted, with a brush of relief, that he kept his arm where it was. ‘maybe I can help?’

 

‘Oh?’

 

Gladio nodded at the piano.

 

‘I might be really good at it,’ he said, pulling his arm free then to push back his sleeves and hold his hands over the keys. Ignis blinked, struck by an odd sense of déjà vu that didn’t belong to him. A more familiar rush of affection caught him up next, twofold when Gladio pressed down and made the piano shriek.

 

He swore and took his hands away.

 

‘A secret prodigy,’ Ignis said wryly.

 

Gladio pecked at more keys, just as discordantly. ‘That’s me,’

 

Ignis watched Gladio poke his way along, playing without a care for finesse or sequence or what anyone, namely Ignis, might think. It was so wrong as to be right - Ignis felt himself smiling. After a time he took Gladio’s hand in his to show him a simple series of chords that made up the building blocks of nursery rhymes and operatic masterpieces alike. Gladio’s skin was warm and smooth, and it took him a while, but his grin when he mastered the notes was worth any wait.

 

‘That sounded pretty good!’ Gladio beamed.

 

‘I should be careful that you don’t replace me.’ Ignis said with a laugh. ‘Here,’

 

He started a slow melody for Gladio to copy, note by note, and Gladio mimicked it easily enough, and more quickly the next time around. However, when it came to playing it all together on his own he stumbled after the first note, looking helplessly to Ignis who stared back. A heartbeat later they were laughing between themselves.

 

‘You almost had it,’ Ignis said, starting again, but Gladio didn’t move to copy him this time.

 

His smiled had softened and the look in his eyes had changed, too. The sympathy was gone, replaced by some affection Ignis didn’t feel worthy enough to have inspired, not when he felt so hollowed out himself. He was wary of taking without the capacity to give back in equal measure, but...

 

Nobody had ever looked at him the way Gladio did now.

 

‘Am I going too fast?’ Ignis asked, quietly.

 

Gladio shook his head. ‘Show me again?’

 

He did, carrying on the tune when Gladio didn’t move to copy him, extending the melody beyond where it naturally ended. Somehow it came easily. Gladio pressed closer, and Ignis let himself lean on him, too. He couldn’t have said where the music came from - a place in his muscle memory, maybe.

 

Gladio hummed and moved, then Ignis felt his hand on the small of his back. It was just a touch - simple, warm, but it shuddered through him. Ignis paused, Gladio smiled and said quietly  _ keep going _ , and so he did.

 

Thoughts of deadlines and missing music melted to a honey blur when Gladio began stroking long lines up and down Ignis’ back. He moved slowly, in time, and Ignis heard his light breathing more loudly than the piano under his fingers. Gladio sometimes pressed a little harder on the downstroke. Ignis would hold his breath, suppressing a shiver and a keening for more that he didn’t know how to express beyond a shy glance.

 

But Gladio never disappointed. Ignis let himself play without thinking; his mind was golden, molten, and concentrated utterly on Gladio’s touch and the hand that’d tracked upwards, settling at the nape of his neck and teasing the soft down of hair there. On the edge of his perception Ignis heard the music they were making and thought only that it sounded  _ good _ , as good as it felt, even.

 

He only hoped he’d remember it.

 

Ignis didn’t turn his head when he saw Gladio draw close, not even when he felt a warm breath across his ear. He smiled with a gasp when Gladio eventually urged him to turn his head away with the gentlest push of his fingers against his jaw. He forgot to keep playing. He didn’t know what to do with his hands but knew he wanted to do  _ something _ . Gladio was kissing him, plying the underside of his jaw, then his neck.

 

He made a low noise, and Gladio paused.

 

Ignis reached out to clutch Gladio’s knee.

 

‘Carry on,’ he whispered, hazily.

 

Gladio murmured a  _ you got it _ , and Ignis felt him smile against his neck when he resumed. It was… unbearably precious. The feeling went through him in waves of shivers, pushing down to his fingers and his stomach, deeper, filling him with a fuzzy sort of nervousness that wasn’t unpleasant, only new.

 

Time slowed and faded. Each press of Gladio’s lips to his neck was soft and measured, lasting just long enough for Ignis to melt into it, to think  _ my God, at last _ , then start again when Gladio shifted. He went inch by inch tracing a slow line.

 

The music had stopped, and it was only when Gladio grazed Ignis’ neck with a brush of his tongue that he even realised it. Rife arousal caught him hard and off guard, and Ignis pulled away to stare.

 

Gladio cleared his throat, wiping idly at the corner of his mouth.

 

‘Sorry, I got kinda carried a-’

 

‘Don’t be,’ Ignis interrupted, barely above a whisper. ‘don’t be sorry,’

 

Gladio took a moment to look at him, and Ignis returned the glance, schooling his breath into something less ragged all the while. He smiled again after a moment, winding an arm back around Ignis’ waist and nodding.

 

‘So, that was pretty,’ he said, gone sweetly shy all of a sudden.

 

Pretty? Ignis raised a brow, only momentarily distracted by the way Gladio’s chest rose and fell when he exhaled a heavy breath.

 

‘Pardon?’

 

‘What you were playing,’

 

‘Oh, thank you,’ Ignis said, feeling a flush. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’

 

‘Distracted?’ Gladio smirked.

 

‘Just a touch,’

 

Gladio laughed then, and Ignis might have too if he hadn’t noticed a small split in Gladio’s lip. Moving on an instinct he couldn’t bite back, Ignis reached to cup Gladio’s face and peer at it more closely. He peered at his eyes, too, and the rest of his face, realising with a thrum of excitement that he’d never seen Gladio so close for so long.

 

He could’ve counted his eyelashes if he’d wanted to.

 

‘You’re hurt?’

 

Gladio grumbled and pressed a thumb to the cut.

 

‘Nah, it was my own fault, don’t worry,’

 

‘What happened?’

 

Gladio opened his mouth to reply before thinking better of it, rather churlishly. He lowered his eyes and arched into Ignis’ touch when he stroked his thumb gently across his cheek, revelling in the softness of his skin. The emptiness of the hall seemed to press in around him. Ignis huddled closer, turning his back on the empty seats and stalls.

 

‘I was at the gym,’ Gladio started, giving Ignis a brief squeeze around the middle. ‘I was on the treadmill and, uh, probably shoulda been paying more attention,’

 

‘You tripped?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Gladio said with a little laugh. ‘I went to take a drink and nearly knocked out a tooth instead,’

 

‘Distracted?’ Ignis teased.

 

Gladio nodded. ‘Have been for a while,’

 

Ignis couldn’t help but smile; for as desperately as his heart was racing, Gladio had a way of drawing the nerves out of him, smoothing them away and leaving him with a heady adrenaline instead. He felt Gladio shift closer, saw him close his eyes.

 

He’d been about to do the same when Gladio backed up.

 

‘Oh,  _ shi _ -’ he whispered, bit his lip and squared Ignis with a look. ‘I should ask, right?’

 

‘Ask what?’ Ignis breathed, keeping the distance between them narrow.

 

Gladio tapped their noses together, took in a deep breath.

 

‘If I can kiss you?’

 

Ignis drew him in before the  _ yes  _ was even past his lips.

 

It wasn’t a bruising kiss; Gladio didn’t surge forward and put a claim to him, rather he barely gave Ignis enough, toying with almost-kisses, soft presses and mingled breath until Ignis heard himself sigh and insist on something more. Gladio gave it with a smile. Slowly, gently, coaxing him into deeper kisses. Ignis clung to him, winding a hand into Gladio’s hair even as Gladio pulled him closer, almost onto his lap.

 

And  _ there _ was an idea.

 

Ignis sighed, plaintive, and they parted to steal a breath before diving down together again, drowning deep. Gladio led without demanding, just as gentle as Ignis had imagined he’d be. He didn’t know how or what it would entail, but Ignis ached for more - more closeness, more of  _ this _ , more of him. The embers swelled inside and ate him up.

 

Gladio only smiled and kissed his cheek when they parted again. For a time they stayed brow to brow, breathing together, unwilling to break apart.

 

‘That’s, ah, that’s a yes, then?’ Gladio teased, with a voice like silk.

 

Ignis laughed and nodded, then kissed him again.

 

Then, the foyer door opened once again, though Ignis was far less pleased to see it this time.

 

‘Guys? Oh, hey, I got a message for you, reception wanted me to tell you that Ard-  _ oh _ ,’

 

Ignis looked away first, startled and blushing horribly and immediately, Gladio grumbled something, and Prompto was halfway to the stage with his hands clapped over a beaming smile that twinkled in his eyes.

 

‘What is it?’ Gladio asked, rather impatiently.

 

Prompto took his hands from his mouth and held them clasped together in front of him, swaying. The grin was still there - and probably would be for a while. Not that Ignis could blame him, of course.

 

‘Oh, yeah! Ignis, you got a message at the front desk,’ he said.

 

‘Right. Thanks.’

 

‘So, is this…’ Prompto trailed off, pointing back and forth between the two of them. Ignis felt Gladio’s arm tighten around him and quickly set a hand on his knee again. ‘is this thing cooking at last?’

 

‘Cooking.’ Gladio echoed, dully. Ignis caught his eye, smiled gently, and Gladio’s edge softened. He looked back to Prompto with a frown. ‘Give us a minute, alright?’

 

‘Just one minute?’ Prompto grinned.

 

‘Thank you, Prompto,’ Ignis chimed in after Gladio’s scoff.

 

‘No prob, I’ll wait outside for you big guy, huh?’

 

Gladio nodded. Prompto clicked his tongue and pointed a pair of fingerguns at them, then started back along the aisle and out to the foyer with a distinct spring in his step.

 

When the door clicked closed and the  _ thud _ rang around the hall, Gladio exhaled a heavy breath and buried himself in the crook of Ignis’ neck again. Ignis laughed, caught between a breath, and held him close and tight, closing his eyes.

 

‘Well, at least we don’t have to tell him,’ Gladio grumbled.

 

‘True,’ Ignis said, combing through his dark hair. ’do you have to go with him right away?’

 

Gladio pressed a kiss to Ignis’ neck, nosing at the soft skin behind his ear. When he spoke, his voice was a deep hum, almost more a feeling than a sound.

 

‘Let him wait,’

 

‘For just a minute?’

 

‘Let’s make it ten,’

 

Ignis laughed, and tilted his head for Gladio’s ease - he wasn’t going to argue with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi & thank you for reading! it's a little chapter today but... well. hopefully a good one .... B)
> 
> again, sorry about the wait - i'm really happy to say that i got the job i interviewed for! things are a little hectic atm now though 'cause i have to move across the country ... with very little money and very little time, BUT. i'm feeling optimistic about it all! thank you so much for your really sweet comments over the last few months , i read and reply to all of them, and it means so much, all of them do!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i'm nightrunning.tumblr.com and my blog is all memes and final fantasy


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